


Alternate Resave

by orangebiscotti



Series: Inspired by the Suiko RPG [1]
Category: Suikoden, Suikoden I, Suikoden II, Suikoden III, Suikoden IV
Genre: Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prophetic Visions, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 56,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangebiscotti/pseuds/orangebiscotti
Summary: Five years have passed since the conclusion of the Second Fire Bringer War. An unknown force begins to draw Stars of Destiny across time and space towards Budehuc Castle, including former friends, foes... and even those from beyond the grave.Loosely based on my time role playing on Livejournal many years ago. Starts off Suiko3-centric and builds as other characters arrive.Chapter 33: In which Clive offers words of reassurance to Cecile as she struggles with Thomas's resignation, and Koroku gets belly rubs.





	1. Yun: Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a certain Alma Kinan shaman suddenly finds herself very much alive five years after the events of the Second Fire Bringer War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a decade ago I met many talented people, and we roleplayed together for many years. This story is loosely based on that experience and is my attempt at tying it all together with a focus on a handful of characters and an over-arching plot. I've been slowly working on this for quite some time and will gradually upload it piece by piece. 
> 
> For anyone who may stumble across this and used to play with us, thank you for all the wonderful memories. I only hope I can do your characters justice.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Aunna for serving as one of my biggest inspirations.

Suddenly air entered her lungs, and she was breathing again.

Everything that was silent before filled with the sounds of life. The murmuring voices of the spirits drifted through the air and tickled at her ears. She sat up in a soft patch of sweetgrass and opened her eyes, drinking in the early morning sunrise.

_ I’m alive. _

She looked down at her hands in astonishment. Fully flesh and blood, a true body—_her _ body. Every little wrinkle across her knuckles and the small mole at the base of her thumb were comfortingly familiar. If this was a dream, it was remarkably accurate down to the tiniest detail she could recall from her original body. 

_ Spirits, what is the meaning of this? What of the soul-sending ritual? _

But the whispers of the spirits had nothing to say of her circumstances. In fact, they seemed entirely disinterested in her miraculous rebirth.

She slowly rose to her feet and wobbled in place. Her clothes felt tight. Had she grown? Was it even _ possible _ to somehow grow while previously deceased? After a moment of unsteadiness she turned and surveyed her surroundings. A gentle breeze rippled across the grassy plains, and her nearest neighbor—a single boulder—stood silent.

“Where...am I?” the young woman tested her voice. A little dry, but otherwise it sounded the same as she recalled. Even after speaking aloud, the spirits continued to ignore her questions and taunted her with their unrelated chatter. 

“I see,” she murmured, “is this your way of telling me I need to figure this out for myself?”

The woman began walking across the grassy plains. She wasn’t accustomed to being outright ignored by the spirits, but if they were refusing to reply, there was surely a reason. And the only way to find answers was to move forward.

Her rebirth slowly began to feel more real with each passing step. The sun rose higher in the sky as she made her way across the plains. Exertion, exhaustion, and even a bit of sweat at her temples were all signs of truly being alive. “Does this mean the soul-sending ritual was a failure? But…” she paused and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. How long had she been walking? How long since she died? What happened in her absence?

“Excuse me, miss?”

She turned around at the sound of the voice and came face-to-face with a cloaked man. He pulled back his hood and brushed away the fair hair covering his forehead. “Do you know which way Budehuc is? I’m… a bit lost,” he squinted his eyes in the sunlight. His aura was clear and nonthreatening. 

“Bu...dehuc?” 

“A merchant I passed on the road said it was the closest place for a decent rest. And I’m long overdue for one,” he mumbled. “Damn _ Viki _ sneezing me off in the middle of my mission…”

A faint memory from long ago tugged at her. Didn’t Chris Lightfellow once mention a castle by the name of Budehuc? “Actually, that does sound a bit familiar...”

Finally the spirits acknowledged her, but only to answer the most recent question. Visions of an unfamiliar lakeside manor flooded through her mind. 

_ Ah, so you’ll answer _ this _ question of mine, but not the others? Curious...what do you have in store for me, spirits? _

The traveller cocked his head to the side as if sensing the wind, the gun at his side catching the morning light. “I’m guessing it’s probably further along this path. Are you headed the same way? If we’re going in the same direction, might as well travel together.”

“Apparently I am,” she smiled. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Clive,” he replied. “And you?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Clive. My name is Yun.”


	2. Fred: Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred arrives at Budehuc after wandering the wilderness without his squire for weeks, hoping to find some familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one ever picked up Rico. But in a way I think it forced Fred to grow as a character. He is one of my favorites to write.
> 
> Yun was written as not spending any time in canon at Budehuc.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are based on a post from April 14th, 2004.

“Sir Fred! Welcome back! It feels like forever since we last saw you! Master Thomas will be so excited to hear you’re—_ Koroku_, will you _ please _leave poor Sir Fred’s ankles alone?!”

The Maximillian Knight smiled and swept into a knightly bow, ignoring the shiba inu’s persistent sniffing at his feet. “Lady Cecile, no worries. I’m certain Koroku is equally excited to see me as I am him—and you, of course.” 

Fred regarded the young captain of the guards with a smile. After all this time, her good cheer and excitable energy was just as he remembered. She stood at attention by the front gates of the manor, still donned in her father’s hand-me-down armored breastplate and helmet paired with her familiar orange checkered skirt. Even during peacetime she was fully armed, her spear and shield at the ready. 

Cecile dragged the heel of her spear across the dirt in efforts to nudge Koroku away. “What a wonderful surprise! How many years has it been since we last saw you? I will make sure to have your old room readied for you immediately!” 

How many years _ had _ it been? Four? Five? Time after the conclusion of the Second Firebringer War seemed to fly by. The Maximillian Knight had every intention of dropping in on his old comrades, but each time he made the effort, some new duty seemed to crop up…

_ No, that’s not entirely true. _

In all honesty, Fred simply couldn’t recall how to actually find his way back to Budehuc on his own. The young knight ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed contentedly while looking across the castle grounds. The manor stood proudly in the background, every red brick and white-trimmed window just as he recalled. Despite Budehuc’s decidedly unique appearance—more like a country mansion than a noble castle—it emanated a sort of homey warmth unlike the domineering stones of Brass Castle to the south. He found comfort in its enduring appearance and the sight of his old comrades after spending so much time traveling on the road. 

“How many years? Far too long, I’m afraid. But Lady Cecile, I daresay...have you grown taller?”

“H-have I?!”

“Nah,” a lazy drawl came from behind her. “You’re just as short as always, little bean,” the approaching young man playfully bopped the top of her helmet with his closed fist. Unlike Cecile’s noticeable coming of age, the dojo master appeared mostly unchanged in his standard green garb, although the faintest hint of blonde stubble peppering his jawline did not escape Fred’s observation. “Nice try at buttering her up though, Fred.”

“Juan! Sir Fred _ says _ I’ve gotten taller!”

“Uh huh. Well, Fred also couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. So take it with a grain of salt, yeah?” he yawned. 

“It’s so nice to see you all again,” Fred laughed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Truth be told, I was hoping I could stay here again for a while. Rico has returned to visit family, and I...er…”

“C’mon, Fred. Did you get lost _ again_?”

_ Urk. _

The Maximillian Knight flinched. Despite Juan's drowsy demeanor, Fred always suspected the dojo master was far sharper than he appeared. And unfortunately, Juan's guess was spot on. After wandering the wilderness without his squire for weeks, Fred hoped to maybe find some familiar faces at Budehuc. It was comforting to see his hopes were rewarded.

“That’s irrelevant! Sir Fred has arrived safe and sound! It doesn’t matter if he took a few detours,” Cecile waved her arms. “So don’t you go driving him off, Juan!”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys are making too much noise. I only came over because I was _ trying _ to get some sleep.”

“It’s only noon! What are you doing napping already?!”

“I think you mean it’s _ already _ noon! I’ve usually squeezed in two whole naps by now. You’re putting me behind schedule!”

A soft voice interrupted their bickering. “Hello…? Is this Budehuc Castle?”

_ That voice… but… _

A young woman crossed the front gate. Hovering behind her stood a cloaked man with a rifle resting against his shoulder, his eyes scanning the castle grounds with purpose. The woman’s dark hair barely reached past her chin, framing her soft face with just the slightest wave at the tips. Her clothes bore the unmistakable green and brown woven designs the Alma Kinan clan were famous for. A delicate fringe of snow-white fur adorned her collar and the cuffs of her sleeves. 

Fred felt his blood run cold. There was only one woman of the Alma Kinan clan he knew who would be dressed in such finery. A woman he never expected to lay eyes on again. The honor of bearing witness to the sacred soul-sending ritual was one that remained burned deep within the young man’s memory, and hers was a face he swore never to forget.

_ Goddess, how is this possible? Am I seeing things? _

“L...Lady _ Yun_? But…”

The woman smiled gently. “Hello, Sir Fred. It feels wonderful to see a familiar friend.”

Fred glanced back at Cecile and Juan in a panic, then recalled that neither had the chance to meet Yun during the war. Of course they wouldn’t recognize her—but _ he _ did, and his visit to the Alma Kinan clan was very much a defining moment in his journey as a knight. A defining moment that also very much _ defined _ Yun as very much _ dead_. 

_ Yet here she stands in front of me...alive and well. What is this?! _

“Oh!” Cecile scampered up to the new arrivals and bowed. The red feather in her helmet comically flopped down in her face. “Welcome to Budehuc Castle! I’m Cecile, the commander of the guards! Are you friends of Sir Fred’s?”

Yun continued to smile. “Yes, Sir Fred and I are acquainted. It’s lovely to meet you, Cecile.”

The gunman standing off to the side finally spoke. “So, this is Budehuc _ Castle_? Looks like a big house.”

“Yes, isn’t it beautiful?” Cecile vigorously nodded. “Any friend of Sir Fred is welcome here!” 

“Can’t say I know Fred,” the gunner raised an eyebrow at Fred and tilted back the hood of his cloak to reveal a far more youthful face than Fred anticipated given the man’s standoffish demeanor, “but I recognize the Maximillian crest,” he gave an acknowledging nod at the large emblem across Fred’s indigo breastplate. “The name’s Clive.”

“Welcome to Budehuc Castle, Sir Clive! Do you like dogs?”

“I don’t mind them.”

Juan loudly yawned and scratched his backside. “Great. More people. Lovely. I’ll let you get back to it, Cecile. Looks like you’ve got this covered,” he waved and began to saunter off. 

“Juan! Where are you going!? You should fetch Master Thomas! He would want to know Sir Fred is back!”

“Nah, you’ve got more than enough energy for that. I’ll let you handle that _ honor _ all on your own.”

Yun giggled, and Fred couldn’t help but stare. She truly was alive. Despite the years that passed, somehow she looked older and more serene than he remembered. It was as though time continued to march forward, and she grew along with it. As if she naturally aged instead of...

Yun turned and met his eyes. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment as she caught him staring. “Sir Fred, did you arrive recently yourself?”

“Y-yes, that is correct, Lady Yun.”

“Hm,” she smiled dreamily. “Then perhaps the spirits have something planned after all.”


	3. Thomas: Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas is overwhelmed with duties and requires a reminder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to eat, Thomas.

The young castle master slumped across his desk and groaned. A stack of documents tauntingly loomed over him. He pressed his cheek into his palm and closed his eyes as the scent of ink on his fingertips tickled his nose. Thomas was beginning to suspect that for every paper he signed, two more sprang up in its place. 

_ But maybe...if I can continue at this pace, I’ll be able to take a proper break for lunch soon... _

Suddenly the door to his office burst open, and the stack of papers went flying. 

“Master Thomas! You’ll never believe who—oh..._ oh _ dear, oh _ no_, I’m so, so sorry—”

“C-Cecile...no, it’s okay,” he rose to his feet and began restacking the loose papers. 

“I’m so sorry!” she tossed her spear and shield to the floor with a clatter and began grabbing papers mid-air. “Were these in any particular order?”

“Not anymore,” he mumbled. “Please just… leave them on my desk. I will take care of it.”

She bowed in place and set her fistful of papers on his desk. “Sir Fred Maximillian has returned to Budehuc, Master Thomas! And two more new arrivals as well!”

New arrivals? Although business was doing sufficiently well since the end of the war, Thomas admitted it had been some time since he’d seen new faces, and things had become a bit slow. “Well, I suppose that’s good news. Are they here for trade? Setting up shop?”

Her face flushed pink in embarrassment. “I… I forgot to ask…”

“No matter, it’s nice to have new guests all the same.”

“Oh yes, I agree completely! Shall I get some rooms arranged? Or maybe I can ask Sebastian if he can help. I really hope they feel welcome and decide to stay!”

“That would be perfect, thank you,” he smiled fondly. “I’m sure you’ve already given them a very warm welcome, Cecile.”

Her embarrassed blush darkened and she bowed again, her light blonde hair covering her eyes. “As commander of the guards, that’s one of my most important duties!” Cecile straightened and immediately set her mouth in a firm line. “I’ll get their rooms set up right away! But…” she tilted her head, “Master Thomas, have you been eating?”

The young man fiddled with his hands and broke eye contact. Somehow Cecile always knew. “Ah...I...it’s fine,” he laughed nervously.

“Are you _ sure_?”

“I promise.”

As if on cue, a disgruntled growl slipped from his stomach. Cecile’s stare intensified. 

“Master Thomas, I hope that promise includes a _ lunch break_! I...I can bring you something if you’d like?” she offered hopefully. 

“No, it’s all right. I really ought to wrap this up. And if we have new guests, it’s all the more important I complete these papers. They may want to set up shop.”

“They seem more like travellers, to be entirely honest,” Cecile nodded, “I really do hope they stay for a while! Since the war ended, it has been awfully quiet—ah, not that I mind! It’s still loads better compared to before you arrived, Master Thomas.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “No, I understand. Maybe some visitors are just what we need.”

“I agree completely! I can’t wait for you to meet them! But please be sure to eat first.”

“I’ll do my best...I just need to wrap up my work here,” he sighed.

Cecile hovered in front of his desk. She seemed to have more she wanted to say. It was unusual to see her so hesitant. “If...if you don’t come out for something to eat before supper, I will be back to check on you, okay?”

_ Ah. That’s what she’s worried about. _

“That’s all right. I’ll be down in a while to properly greet them, and I promise to grab something from Mamie’s cafe on my way back. In the meantime, I’m counting on you to help everyone get settled, okay?”

“Of course!” She scooped up her spear and shield from the floor and gave him a hearty salute, then slammed the door shut as she ran out the room...scattering his papers again.

‘I...I guess it will be a little while longer then…” Thomas sighed and resumed gathering his documents. 

_ Never a dull moment, I suppose _…

The young man couldn’t help but smile again. New arrivals after a quiet stretch were always a welcome change of pace. And after all, he did promise to get out more and eat. 


	4. Cecile: Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a friendship is forged between Yun and Cecile, and an important detail is brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yun and Cecile are the same age. I like to think they would've been good friends.

The young commander of the guards sat atop the stone wall looking across the lake and smiled to herself as the sun dipped below the horizon. Evening patrol was her favorite time of day. As much as she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the daytime, there was something special and serene about night patrol. She adjusted the wick of her lantern and set it at her side as the sky grew dark.

A quiet presence approached her from behind. The Alma Kinan woman leaned against the wall and draped her arms across the top. “Good evening, Cecile,” she smiled. 

“Miss Yun! You just missed the sunset!” 

“I was actually looking for you,” she tilted her head and continued to smile. “I wanted to thank you for making me feel so welcome these past few weeks. I really feel like I’m right at home here.”

Cecile felt a swell of pride rise in her chest. “I’m so glad to hear that! I want _ everyone _ to enjoy Budehuc! After the war, so many of my friends moved on...it’s really exciting having someone familiar return like Sir Fred, and of course making new friends like you! And I confess,” she sheepishly rubbed her nose, “it’s awfully nice having someone close to my age.”

Yun giggled. “I agree, it is nice to make new friends.”

“Ever since the war ended, Belle and Mel both left on their own adventures, and while I was very happy for them…” Cecile trailed off as she thought back on her two friends during the Second Firebringer War. The puppet master and inventor were closest to her age and every bit as eager to forge friendly ties. But they were always destined for life beyond the castle walls and quickly took off to continue journeying separately once things settled down. “Well, maybe they’ll return to visit one day, just like Sir Fred!”

The young woman nodded and looked out across the lake. Her expression was calm. Cecile felt at ease in her presence. “This place is truly beautiful. I can see why Lady Chris enjoyed her time here and spoke so fondly of it.”

“Ah! It has been so long since Lady Chris was here. But she’s so _ famous _ now, it’s amazing she ever has any time to stop by and visit! I suppose that’s what happens when you’re at the head of the Six Mighty Knights of Zexen though,” Cecile swung her legs back and forth from atop the stone wall. “It has been at least a year since her last visit...I wonder how she’s doing.”

“I hope she comes by to say hello,” Yun sighed. “But even if she doesn’t, I’m sure we’ll make plenty of new friends. The spirits...I think they have something in store for me. I just wish I knew what it was.”

“The spirits?”

Yun nodded. “They haven’t exactly been forthcoming with me yet...but I know in due time I’ll learn why I’m here.”

“Wait…” Cecile suddenly grabbed the lantern and raised it up, the light flickering across Yun’s face. She frowned and studied the woman’s expression. “I… _ that’s _ why your name sounded familiar!” Suddenly she gasped and lowered the lantern. 

_ All this time… how was I so foolish? How could I forget?! _

“Y-you’re the shaman Lady Chris was talking about? The one who completed the ritual?” Cecile flustered with embarrassment. Chris Lightfellow’s tales of a young shaman who performed the soul-sending ritual was purportedly one of the most important actions that helped turn the tide of the Second Firebringer War in their favor. It wasn’t the sort of small detail one simply _ forgot_.

_ And all these weeks have gone by since Miss Yun arrived...how am I only figuring this out just now?! _

“Hehe,” Yun giggled and rested her chin in her hands. Her brown eyes twinkled mischievously. “Has Lady Chris been telling stories about me?”

“Only the most beautiful stories about a noble sacrifice and—” the second realization dawned on Cecile and she drew in a sharp breath. There was a very important detail in Chris Lightfellow’s stories that didn’t quite line up with the reality sitting in front of her. 

“And…?”

“M-Miss Yun… Lady Chris said you _ died_. As part of the soul-sending ritual, you see.”

The shaman’s smile was peaceful. She reached out and gave the young garrison commander’s hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s why I’m so grateful you’ve helped me feel so welcome ever since I arrived. I was in need of a good friend, and you’ve been more than kind to me. Your friendship means a lot to me, Cecile.”

“B...but… but you’re _ here_!” Cecile grabbed her hand tightly, “You’re here, and you’re talking to me, and you’re… you’re _ alive_! So then…”

“I don’t really understand it either, but yes. I completed the soul-sending ritual, yet… here I am.”

“But that was at least four years ago! Or...maybe five...I can’t really remember, but…”

Cecile struggled to count backwards. Ever since the Second Firebringer War drew to a close, the days blended together. Day in and out of patrol duty and other basic castle routines all melted into a single stream of memories. Yet regardless of how much time had passed, it still didn’t negate the one sticky detail of sitting next to someone who was supposed to be _dead_. 

Yun seemed to sense her friend’s unease and giggled again. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise I’m not a ghost. In fact, just yesterday I gave myself a bruise walking down the steps to Mamie’s cafe. Can a ghost do that?”

“I...I suppose not…” Cecile sighed and looked back out at the lake. Stars were starting to dot the nighttime sky, and the spring air was filled with the singing of frogs across the water. It was hard to feel anxious when their surroundings were so calm. “Does...Master Thomas know?”

“I imagine he probably already is aware. I haven’t exactly kept my name a secret, and when we did meet in the halls, he appeared a bit pale,” Yun admitted sheepishly. “But he has been every bit as welcoming as you, I promise.”

The young guard captain smiled to herself. She expected no less from Thomas. Yet the entire phenomenon seemed so surreal. If Yun could somehow return from the dead…

“Miss Yun, ah...”

_ Is it even appropriate to ask? _

Yun’s smile in the lantern light was almost otherworldly. For a fleeting moment, Cecile wondered if the shaman knew exactly what she was about to ask. She swallowed back a brief flutter of anxiety before continuing. “Do you think…_other _people can come back too?”

The woman squeezed Cecile’s hand again. A warm, calming sensation washed over her. “I’m sorry, Cecile. I don’t even know the reason behind why I’m here yet myself.”

Ah...well, that was about as much as she could expect. Cecile quietly sighed. It was probably better this way. Losing her father was one of the most difficult challenges she ever faced. As much as she yearned to see him again, the thought of him returning to life almost seemed wrong. The years spent grieving, growing, and moving past the loss were what helped make her strong, after all.

“Life is so precious, Miss Yun… I’m very glad you got a second chance. Maybe we’re not supposed to know why it happened to you.”

The shaman nodded. “I think you may be right. I hope to make the most of it.”


	5. Fred: Meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred Maximillian and Clive share a drink together at the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we all need a little time away.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from May 3rd, 2004.

“There are too many pets around here.”

“Pets?” Fred Maximillian looked up from his mug at the Budehuc tavern and cast his drinking companion a curious look. “I’m not sure I follow…?”

Clive leaned against his hand and stared down into his own drink. “I was outside meditating earlier. I sensed something moving nearby and instinctively raised my gun and fired—”

“Excellent reflexes, Sir Clive!” Fred raised his mug in applause. “Of course, I expected no less from a marksman of your caliber!”

“No, I _ missed_. Intentionally. It was just a bird, but it got me thinking…” The gunner groaned and rubbed his forehead, “I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but maybe I need to be a little more careful with my gun. It got me wondering—what if I accidentally shot someone’s pet?”

The Maximillian Knight frowned and leaned back in his chair. It was true that things around the castle as of late were increasingly busy, but nothing about the gunner suggested he was anything less than careful. “I’m not sure I follow, Sir Clive?”

“I keep seeing kids with pets around the place. That mage Rody has been walking around the grounds with a kitten. Then there’s that Cecile girl. I think she likes dogs. I’m pretty sure it would upset her if I shot one. Not that I care though,” he grumbled to himself, “Or maybe I do - she seems sweet enough..._ ugh_.” Clive ran a hand through his blond hair and drained the remainder of his drink. “I guess I'll have to leave Storm behind for a while...just until my tense nature calms. I'm sure that Storm will understand.”

“Storm?”

“My gun,” Clive replied a-matter-of-factly. “I hate to do it, but if I’m getting itchy, it probably isn’t a good idea to be running off shooting everything in sight.”

Fred mused to himself as he studied the bubbles at the surface of his own drink. His knowledge surrounding firearms was scant at best. The Maximillian Knights had little involvement with the secretive Howling Voice Guild and its gunners. Something told him that Clive’s personification of his weapon may be more than simple affection judging by the man’s tone of voice, but it didn’t feel appropriate to pry. 

“I understand, the noise of the castle can be stressful sometimes,” Fred answered after a pause. “If you'd like, there is a small field next to the lake, beyond the ranch that is very quiet. I could take you there if you wanted? Maybe you simply need to find a new, peaceful place to meditate?”

“Maybe…” Clive sighed again. “Say, you’re a Maximillian Knight, right? How’s the old man doing?”

“My grandfather? Er...well…” Fred felt himself sweat. The family pressure to find a suitor for him was mounting, and every new letter that arrived in the mail left Fred feeling clammy with anxiety. He wasn’t sure how they managed to track him down at Budehuc, yet as soon as they learned where he was residing, the letters started again. Each correspondence from his mother was increasingly aggressive. “Settling down” wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, especially when “producing an heir” was tied to that checklist item. Of course the esteemed Maximillian family line was important, but...

“Eh. No matter.” Clive set his mug down and sighed. “Say, I might be heading out on a trip soon. You want to come? Nothing big. I need to gather supplies and was planning on making my way to Vinay del Zexay. The castle master mentioned it was the closest city.”

“Vinay del Zexay?!” a chipper voice suddenly rang out from the tavern doorway. Cecile stood in the threshold, a handful of letters in her arms. “I was planning on making a trip there too! May I accompany you?”

Fred cast the pile of letters a wary glance. “Lady Cecile, I would be delighted if you came with us. I’m sure you agree, Sir Clive?”

The gunner grunted but didn’t object. 

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Cecile flustered with excitement and set the letters down in front of Fred. “This mail is for you, Sir Fred! Please let me know as soon as you plan to depart, and I’ll get ready. I hear Zexen Forest this time of year is really pretty!”

“T...thank you, Lady Cecile…” Fred weakly stacked the letters in a small pile. Each envelope had the exact same return address and familiar crested wax seal. Undoubtedly more pressure from home over his unattached status…he could already hear the chiding sound of his mother’s voice ringing in his head.

Cecile swept an arm up into a salute. “You’re welcome! I’m looking forward to traveling with you both!” She sprang out the door as quickly as she arrived.

Clive leaned his cheek against his palm, slightly turning inwards to hide a grin. “Heh. What was that about a _ peaceful _ place for meditation again?”

Fred sighed and looked away from his growing stack of mail. Maybe some meditation would do them both good.


	6. Clive: Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clive accompanies Fred and Cecile on their trip to Vinay del Zexay and speculates on his circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although Clive changed hands several times in our community, each player did a wonderful job. However, our very first Clive held a special place in my heart.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from May 5th, 2004.

The sea breeze coming off the docks was calming. For the first time in months, he actually didn’t feel disgruntled about getting sidetracked from his mission. Ever since Viki sneezed him off to...wherever he wound up, Clive found himself growing increasingly restless. At first it was just a simple inconvenience, but as the days turned into weeks, there was one detail he suspected that made his circumstances even more uncomfortable.

“That’s a bit of a silly question, Sir Clive, unless...are you planning an early New Year’s party?”

“Just...humor me,” he replied.

Cecile stood next to him, leaning against the stone wall along the docks of Vinay del Zexay. Her spear sat nestled in the crook of her arm and she tapped it against her shoulder. “It’s IS 479, of course! You know,” she cast him a devious grin, “if you _ do _ decide to plan an early New Year’s party, I promise not to tell! It has been so long since Budehuc had a proper party, I’m sure Master Thomas would be delighted!”

“I see…”

_ This is a new one. But I guess that would explain a lot. _

Clive’s suspicions were all but confirmed. Not only did Viki’s sneeze send him somewhere new geographically, she also somehow sent him to a new _ time _ altogether. Nearly twenty years into the future, in fact. How much had changed in that time? Things _ seemed _peaceful enough, but the entire affair left him feeling disturbed.

“Sir Clive?” the young guard captain tilted her head. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Is Fred back yet?”

She shook her head. “He said he had a bit more shopping left to do. But that’s okay—I’m plenty patient!” she rocked back and forth on her feet. “You know, Miss Yun was talking about putting on a play at the tavern! You should come! I think it would be a lot of fun. And I was going to volunteer all the welcome basket dogs as extras!”

“Dogs, huh…” 

“Yes! You did say you liked them, right?”

“I don’t mind them,” he nodded as his mind drifted again. Her company wasn’t unpleasant. Although he found himself more accustomed to traveling solo, there was something endearing about her good-natured chatter. If he ever had a younger sister, he imagined she would be something like Cecile. At the minimum her conversation helped take his mind off his unwitting time traveling escapades…

“Sir Clive, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Depends. What do you want to know?”

“Are you Zexen, perchance?”

“Eh?” he blinked. Although he’d vaguely heard of the town before Viki teleported him, his last recollection was of a small trade port. Apparently in the future—well, _ present_—it was a prospering city. He cast an appraising look around at the bustling shops and tidy cobblestone streets. It had all the hallmarks of a business hub in peacetime, a far cry from the austere solemnity of the Holy Kingdom of Harmonia. 

“No, why?”

The young woman sheepishly rubbed her nose and looked back out at the ocean. “It’s just… well, you look an awful lot like my father, you see. He wasn’t strictly Zexen, per se, but I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you two came from the same place.”

“I doubt it,” Clive shrugged and studied the young woman’s face. Fair hair and green eyes—it was possible she was also Harmonian, but if so, she didn’t seem to have any knowledge of her lineage. “Have I met him?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. He passed away several years ago.”

“Ah. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “It was quite some time ago. I hope you don’t mind my asking. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately,” she added after a pause. “With Miss Yun’s return…”

The Alma Kinan shaman was certainly a curiosity, but not one Clive felt intrigued enough to investigate. It didn’t take long for whispers around Budehuc to reach his ears. Allegedly the young woman was rumored to have returned from the dead. Grappling with the reality of _ time travel _ was hard enough. The thought of prying into the shaman’s life-after-death details was something he didn’t feel comfortable with.

_ Time travel and people returning from the dead, huh? Why not, I’ll believe almost anything at this point. _

The thought of seeing certain people from his past returning from the dead sent a small shiver down his spine. Was it even possible? The Howling Voice Guild was known for its assassinations. Targets were meant to _ stay _ dead. Storm probably wouldn’t be pleased with past jobs returning from the great beyond.

The clanking of armor pulled him from his thoughts as a set of heavy footsteps approached them. “Lady Cecile, Sir Clive! Thank you for waiting! I hope you’ve been enjoying the fresh air.”

“Sir Fred!” Cecile scampered over. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“Absolutely,” he gestured to an armful of paper packages in his arms. “And maybe a bit extra, haha… Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m all set! I picked up everything I need already. Although I may grab a few oranges from the street vendor before we leave. I’d like to bring some with me when I visit my father.”

_ Wait, I thought she said…? _

“Ah, that time of year again?” Fred leaned against the wall and offered a kind smile. “I would be more than happy to accompany you this year if you wish.”

“Would you? That would be so wonderful! Juan went last year and… oh, Sir Fred, it was _ awful_-! He fell asleep right in front of father’s grave! Can you believe that?!”

“Unfortunately, it’s very believable.”

_ Oh, that kind of visit. _

“I was going to ask Master Thomas,” she shyly looked away and turned pink, “but he...he’s so busy, I just couldn’t bring myself to ask.”

_ Huh. So that’s how she feels. _

The revelation didn’t surprise him much, but Clive made a mental note to keep a closer eye on the young castle master moving forward. Just in case.

The Maximillian Knight chuckled. “I would be honored to pay respects to your father, Lady Cecile. I’m certain he was truly an honorable man.” 

Cecile puffed out proudly and stabbed the heel of her spear against the stone walkway with a resounding thud. “He absolutely was!” she paused and glanced over at Clive. “We were just talking about him, actually. Sir Clive is a very good listener.”

“I try.”


	7. Yun: Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which elder and younger Viki confront Yun regarding her resurrection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Viki & Viki" would make for a compelling sitcom.

“So... so you’re saying it’s _ not _my fault you’re here, right?”

Yun nodded and gave the young woman sitting opposite her a reassuring smile. “I promise, Viki. It has nothing to do with you.”

Viki choked back tears and clung closer to her wand lying across her lap. “Uwaah...I’m so relieved to hear that,” she sniffled, “It’s just...more and more people keep arriving at Budehuc, and some of them say it’s _ my _ fault they’re here! I recognize them but… I promise, I don’t remember sneezing anyone here!”

The two of them sat at a table by Mamie’s cafe. When the mage requested a meeting, Yun couldn’t help but suspect the reasons for her invitation had something to do with her own miraculous circumstances. “It’s all right, Viki. I don’t really know why I’m here either.”

“That’s just it!” Viki’s lower lip quivered as she pushed back her mousy brown hair over her shoulder. “But now there are _ more _ people coming back! And just yesterday I heard even _ Yuber _ came back! He was so stabby and scary...do you think _ I _ sneezed him here too?”

“Yuber? Ah...no, I don’t think so.” Yun was aware of the demon’s return. He quickly made himself at home in the lower castle sublevels. Although his presence was unsettling, he had yet to actually cause any problems, and the castle master was graciously accepting of new residents, even if they had a troubled past. Yun couldn’t help but admire the young man’s ability to forgive. “I actually...was curious about that though. Do you know if he’s said how long he’s staying?” 

“I don’t know,” Viki hiccuped. “Why did Thomas let him come back!? We should’ve just turned him away…”

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Yun answered gently. “But not everyone returning is bad, right? I’ve met so many new people. And if you had anything to do with their arrivals...well, you’re helping us all make new friends, right?”

“I suppose…” Viki sniffled again. “Clive said I sneezed him here, and Kinnison too...I’m starting to lose count. Maybe I just need to stop sneezing…”

A sour voice came from behind them. “I believe that would be wise.”

“Wah!” Viki stood from her seat, the chair toppling behind her. “How long have you been here?!”

A smaller, younger Viki stood by their table holding a chocolate parfait. She looked to be no older than eight years, but her aura had the domineering presence of an old, wise woman. “Long enough,” she answered. Her tone was cold and her eyes cheerless as she darted a look at her older counterpart. “You never fail to surprise me. But sneezing people from other time periods is a new one.”

Yun glanced between the two of them. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“I’m Viki.”

“You’re…”

“We’re _ both _ Viki!”

Yun giggled uncomfortably. “You’re…_both _ Viki?”

“The logistics are too much to explain,” the younger Viki answered coldly. “But for now, simply accept it as fact,” she set the parfait down and narrowed her eyes. “Please. Enjoy. It is my treat.”

“Oooh, _ Viki_—! This is so nice of you!” the elder Viki wiggled with excitement. “And chocolate, my favorite!”

“Consider it advance payment,” she replied, still looking at Yun. “I wish to have an audience with the shaman at a later time. There are things I want to discuss.”

_ Things to discuss? _

“Does that mean I can’t eat it if it’s meant for Yun…?”

The younger Viki sighed. “Do as you wish.”

Yun stiffened slightly in her chair as she watched the younger Viki teleport herself away with a blink. The meaning behind her words were clear. While the elder Viki was mostly concerned with her sneezing predicament, it was undeniable the younger Viki was more interested in hearing about the details surrounding Yun’s mysterious resurrection. 

_ Unfortunately for her, there’s not much information I have to share... _


	8. Cecile: Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecile departs for Caleria in efforts to train and grow stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cecile went on hiatus for several months, and something was required to explain her absence.

“I expect all of you to do your very best to protect Budehuc in my absence! I anticipate a full report when I return!” Cecile surveyed her small ragtag group sitting outside the castle steps with pride. A balanced team for sure, but she still had some doubts. 

Fred dipped into another knightly bow. “Lady Cecile, are you _ certain _ you don’t require an escort? The nights are growing colder, and the days shorter...surely you could just use the blinking mirror to teleport to Caleria?”

“I _ could,_” she wagged a scolding finger, “but the whole purpose behind my trip is for training! I promised Master Thomas I was going to grow stronger! Using the blinking mirror would be _ cheating_—!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s _ efficient_,” Clive glanced up from cleaning the barrel of his gun. 

An older woman leaned against the front steps and tossed her bobbed hair over one ear with a grin. “Oh, a little travel never hurt anyone,” she gave Cecile a wink. “If this is just because she’s a _ woman_, you boys need to lay off. I’m sure she’s more than capable enough. We’ll keep an eye on the place.”

“Lady Queen! How long is the Southern Frontier Defense Force was visiting? Are you planning on staying while I’m gone?”

Queen gave a casual shrug. “I don’t think the boys mind much. I’ve only got Geddoe and Ace in tow at the moment, we’re all split up on separate jobs for the time being. But I think between the three of us we can still keep an eye on things for you.”

“Eh.” Juan yawned. “_You’ll _ keep an eye on the place. _ I’ve _ got plenty to do.”

“Like what, pray tell?” 

“More than you, that’s for sure. At least I’m _ training _ between napping. You and your buddies are just spending all your time at the tavern.”

Queen shot the dojo master a dirty look. “Training, huh? You want to put that to the test? We can duke it out here, if you prefer. Or did you _ forget _I’m a mercenary and not just a pretty face?”

“You two, no fighting!” Cecile flailed. “I’m _ counting _ on you to keep an eye on things!”

_ Am I really making the right decision…? _

Cecile looked out across the castle courtyard. The surrounding trees were tinged with red and orange. Traveling so far to Caleria this time of year on foot was probably not the most efficient—Clive was right about that. But after hearing about Yuber’s return, the young commander of the guards was deeply unsettled. How could she manage to protect Thomas and the others if she didn’t get stronger? The swordsman didn’t seem to have any malicious intentions, but the way he sauntered across the castle grounds and demanded to stay...it didn’t sit well with her, even if Thomas did insist everyone was deserving of a second chance.

Many times throughout her childhood her father often made trips to Caleria himself for supplies and training. If it worked for him, surely it would work for her as well. Just in case Yuber _ did _ decide to become a threat, she would be ready.

“Cecile,” a gentle voice brought her back to the present, “I’m sure we’ll all be fine. You are free to travel wherever and whenever you wish.”

“M-Master Thomas!” she spun around and hastily bowed. “I promise I won’t be gone long!”

Thomas regarded her with a quiet smile, his brown hair slightly askew in the afternoon breeze. She couldn’t help but notice a smudge of ink along his right hand. It was unlike him to step away from paperwork until his work was complete, and she wondered if maybe her announcement interrupted him. 

“You’re the castle master,” Clive quipped, looking up from his gun again. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, order one of us to accompany her? I don’t like this much.”

“I-I’d rather respect Cecile’s wishes,” Thomas stammered uncomfortably. “If she wishes to travel alone, I am positive she’s more than capable enough.”

A ticklish blush spread across her cheeks. Hearing that Thomas _ believed _ in her was the best parting gift she could ask for. “I promise, Master Thomas! I won’t be gone long! After all, I am the commander of the guards! But it’s my responsibility to get stronger in order to better protect Budehuc!” 

“I have an idea,” a new voice came from around the corner, and a dark-haired man approached the team, a large white wolf trotting at his side. “Why not take one of the dogs with you, Cecile? Then you’re not traveling completely alone.”

“Sir Kinnison!” Cecile waved. Although his arrival at Budehuc was only recent, the young archer quickly settled in. His wolf companion Shiro made fast friends with all the welcome basket dogs. “That is a wonderful idea!”

Fred and Clive exchanged glances. Clive didn’t look reassured, but Fred’s good cheer returned quickly. “That’s a capital idea! Why, I myself have had the honor of fighting alongside Koroku and the others—”

Juan sniggered. “Pretty sure we’ve _ all _ had that misfortune.”

Cecile squashed the rising urge to give Juan a good stomp on the foot. “If it makes Master Thomas happy, I think it’s a wonderful idea too!”

Thomas knelt down and gave Shiro a pat. “I agree, I think Kinnison has a good point.”

“T-then I’ll bring Kosanji with me! He’s most accustomed to mountainous terrain, so he’d be the perfect travel companion!” 

The young castle master gave her an encouraging nod. Her stomach did a somersault seeing his smile. “So long as you’re careful…”

“Feh,” Clive scowled and resumed cleaning his gun. “Traveling with a dog…”

“I promise to be as careful as can be!” Cecile saluted to her friends and hoisted up her spear. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

_ The best way to get stronger is to travel, it’s not like I’ll be gone that long…! _


	9. Luca: Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the mad prince of Highland returns from the dead and tries to make sense of his resurrection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luca Blight is a bad man, and he does not deserve happiness. We took liberties with the technicalities surrounding the Beast Rune. Don't read too deeply into it.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from December 28th, 2004.

Suddenly air entered his lungs, and he was breathing again.

The first breath was biting and frigid. His chest ached from the strain. He sat up with a start, then doubled over and coughed. His breath formed puffs of warm air in the cold. His palm came back clean. A familiar yet unexpected sensation flickered from the backside of his hand. Even through his gauntlets he immediately recognized the feeling. 

_ The Beast Rune… But when? And how? _

Surprise quickly turned to disappointment upon realizing the voice of his new rune was silent as it laid dormant. After all that time they were in communication, _ now _ it chose to stay quiet? 

_ Where the hell am I? And why is it so cold? _

He rose to his feet and swayed in place. The clinking of his armor as he stood upright was comforting and familiar. His hand drifted to his side—his sword sat undisturbed in its hilt. With a gratifying sound it slid out with no effort. His face was reflected in the shine of the blade, clean and unmarked.

His last memories filtered through in fragments and flashes. Flickering fireflies, a volley of arrows, the taste of blood filling his mouth...

A lone wooden fence stretched out across the field. A delicate layer of frost coated the surface, and in the distance he could hear the low murmur of cows. The sky overhead was dark with a thick cover of clouds hiding the stars and moon from sight. He drew another deep breath - the scent of a nearby pig farm prickled at his nose. 

“Heh...heh heh...hahahaha.. HEHAHAHAHOHOOOHOOHAHA, is _this_ the best you’ve got!?” he threw his arms out at his sides. His laughter rang across the field. “A _pig_ farm!? Am I supposed to assume this is my punishment?! I was right not to fear death if _this_ is what was awaiting me!”

The irony was almost too perfect. His shoulders shook as he continued to laugh. For being dead, everything felt remarkably real, almost _ uncomfortably _ real. He was actually growing chilly. 

“What’s so funny, mister?”

He spun around and laid eyes on a young boy. A farmhand, judging by his clothes. The boy wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and studied him with open interest. 

_ So there are even children here in hell? Heh. _

“Mister…?” the boy craned his neck and wrinkled his brow. “You don’t _ look _ like a Zexen knight…”

For a passing moment he contemplated striking the child down, but curiosity won out. “What are you talking about, boy? Do you _ know _ who I am?”

The child shrugged and breathed into his hands. “Lost, I guess?”

“_Lost_? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” 

“A lotta people come through this way looking for Budehuc,” the boy continued. “And since it’s gonna snow soon, I reckon you’re probably just wandering in the wrong direction.”

_ Nonsense names and a nonsense pig farm…is this actually hell after all? _

The urge to cut the child down slowly rose along with his frustration, but he couldn’t be hasty. This might be his only chance at actual answers. He slowly sheathed his sword. “I don’t give a damn about this Budehuc, boy. Which direction is L’Renouille?”

“What now?”

“Highland Kingdom, you _ simpleton_.”

The boy scoffed. “Highland? Look mister, that ain’t too nice of you. Just because I work on the farm doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention in history class. You’re a long way off from the Dunan Republic, so uh…”

_ Dunan Republic?! _

His sword was back out of its hilt in a flash and pressed against the boy’s neck. “Are you telling me Highland is no more? Speak up, maggot...or my hand might _ slip._”

That did the trick. The child squirmed and whimpered. “I-I told you all I know! If you want to know more, there are way more people up north at Budehuc!”

_ Either this truly is some twisted form of hell, or… _

He pressed the blade closer and felt the child swallow against the steel. “And this _ Budehuc _...is it part of your Dunan Republic?” he spat. The words felt filthy on his tongue. 

“It’s a free trade zone, so...it’s part of nothing, I guess? I don’t know!”

“Tch. Consider yourself lucky, maggot,” he released the boy. It wasn’t worth dirtying his blade. Not if there was something bigger waiting for him ahead. His blood was boiling. Was this truly hell? Some kind of pathetic joke? After his loss in battle, was he living his afterlife in a twisted world where his entire kingdom was no more?

The child stumbled backwards and drew his scarf closer against his neck. “Y-you’ve got issues, mister! You're not like any Zexen knight I’ve ever met!”

“Budehuc, Zexen, what is this garbage?” he snarled and sheathed his sword. The option to draw blood wasn’t completely off the table, but gathering information was still more valuable. “I demand answers, you worthless worm!” 

Beads of sweat dripped down the boy’s forehead despite the chilly evening air. It was obvious he was contemplating making a run for it. “Y-you’re on the outskirts of Iksay Village, sir!” 

“That name means _ nothing _ to me! You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to live.”

The child started to sob. “I don’t know what else you want to know! My pa sent me out to check on the livestock, and I heard you laughing and… and I thought it was weird seeing someone out here on New Year’s Eve—”

“New Year’s?” he paused. An uncomfortable notion tugged at the back of his mind. 

_ Highland is no more. Either this is hell, or... _

“What year is it?”

“W-what?”

“The _ year _—what damn _ year _ is it?!”

“IS 480 tomorrow, sir!”

_ Impossible. _

He wanted it to be a lie, but the child’s voice was high and quivered with fear. Those weren’t the words of a liar. Those were the words of someone scared to die. He leaned down and breathed in the boy’s face, his breath a vapor of hot air. “And which way did you say this _ Budehuc _ was?”

“N-Northwards...just...follow the road over the hill,” he sniffled. 

“Today is your lucky day. I’m feeling charitable. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” he cracked his neck. “I’m going to find your _ Budehuc_. And I’m going to confirm if what you said is true. If I find out you lied...I _ will _ return, and I will burn your Iksay Village to the _ ground_.”

The fear in the child’s eyes was gratifying. If this was death, he was starting to feel alive again. “B-but I’m not lying…then what?”

“Then you can go home and tell everyone you know that Luca Blight, prince of Highland has returned.”


	10. Thomas: Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas makes a poor life decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really is no logical reason why this would ever be deemed acceptable.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from January 3rd, 2005.

_ We’ve really outdone ourselves this year. _

The first light of the morning began to stretch across the courtyard. He stood outside at the front gates and drew his winter coat closer, surveying the decorations adorning the manor with pride. Not since the Second Firebringer War had they thrown such a pleasant party. Everyone was well-behaved, and Yun’s decorations really stole the show. Thomas couldn’t help but be pleased. It felt good to ring in the new year without any accidents or disasters. 

“It’s too bad Cecile wasn’t here to join us,” Kinnison smiled, leaning against the stone wall and rubbing his gloved hands together. “Have you heard from her lately?”

The castle master shook his head. “Not in quite a while...although I hear Caleria has gotten an unusual amount of snow.”

“Caleria…” Kinnison scratched the back of his neck. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not too familiar with the region. And Viki has no memory of sneezing me here, so I haven’t gotten many answers out of her either…”

Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He’d almost forgotten the archer was amongst the new “teleported” arrivals. “It’s...er...it’s quite far south, so snow is a little rare for the area,” he laughed nervously. “I imagine maybe she’s simply snowed in. Knowing her, we’ll hear from her soon.”

Kinnison smiled warmly and put a hand on his shoulder. Thomas couldn’t help but blush at the gesture. “You’ve really helped me feel welcome since I arrived. It means a lot to me.”

“I-I try,” he stammered nervously. It felt good receiving acknowledgment, especially from one of the newer arrivals. 

The sound of heavy footsteps crunching against the snow-covered stone approached them. A large man clad in shining white armor ascended the castle steps. Despite the cold air, he seemed completely unaffected by the chill. A fine dusting of snow coated the tips of his black hair and clung to his cape. 

_ Another new arrival? _

Suddenly Kinnison tensed at his side and thrust his arm out in front of Thomas’s chest. “Damn it,” he whispered, “I’m unarmed.”

“W...what?” 

The man stopped and looked down at the two of them. Did Kinnison recognize him? Perhaps he was simply caught off-guard? There was something unsettling about him, and Thomas found himself more anxious than usual.

“Um, um... h-how do you d-do?” Thomas stammered. “Um, I'm the m-master of this castle, Thomas. Uh... w-welcome to B-Budehuc Castle.”

“Budehuc,” the man growled. There was a fire in his eyes. “What's the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue?” he chuckled. “How could someone scrawny like you become _ master _of a castle?”

“I...I just stutter when I’m nervous,” Thomas admitted and shuffled uncomfortably.

“The first and most important thing you should know about being a leader is to _ never _show any sign of weakness!”

He gulped. Everything about this man was demanding. “Y-yes sir, I’ll be sure to work on that!”

Kinnison remained at Thomas’s side. The castle master could sense his unease. “Ah…” the archer darted an anxious glance between the two of them, “Luca Blight...I thought you were…”

“You know me?” the man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recognize you…Bah, no matter! As long as I'm 'welcomed'... heh heh…”

“_Welcomed_?” Kinnison blanched. 

The man named Luca ignored Kinnison and looked back at Thomas. His stare was uncomfortable. “You, castle _ master_. I have questions for you.”

“Q-questions?”

“What year is it?”

Thomas blinked. Was he a late guest to their New Year’s party? “Uh...IS 480, as of this morning. H-happy new year?” he offered weakly.

“So the child was telling the truth,” Luca mumbled to himself. An uncomfortable silence passed between the three of them. Kinnison’s arm was still outstretched, and Thomas began to feel himself sweat in the cold winter air. 

“A-are you looking to stay here?”

“_Thomas_—!” Kinnison hissed.

Luca raised a heavy eyebrow. “I anticipated having to force my way in, but this makes it easier. I’ll be making this my base for the time being,” he pushed past the two of them and walked up the steps.

The archer stood in shock and lowered his arm. There was another uncomfortable silence as Luca’s footsteps tapered off. “D...do you have any idea who that is?”

“No...but…”

“Does the name _ Luca Blight _ not mean anything to you?”

Thomas shook his head in embarrassment. “N-no…”

Kinnison sighed. “People teleporting through time, people returning from the dead…Thomas, I know you have a reputation around here for being kind and just, but I’m urging you to _ be careful. _ He’s...he _ worse _ than Yuber. I hope you know what you’re doing...”

**“**I try to give everyone a second chance,” Thomas swallowed and nervously played with his gloves. “But if anyone steps out of line...you have my word as castle master that I’ll take care of it.”

“I trust you...” Kinnison reached out and rumpled his hair. Thomas felt his face grow warm at the kind gesture. “I guess that’s why everyone around here cares about you,” he added with a smile before ascending the steps.

“T-thank you…” Thomas timidly waved. His knees felt weak.

_ Am I doing the right thing…? _


	11. Yun: Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yun encounters Luca Blight in the halls, and her curiosity can only lead to bad things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the spirits are saying no, that's usually a solid indicator it's not a good idea.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from January 4th, 2005.

The box of holiday decorations was nearly full as Yun laid the last strand of paper chains across the top. She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead and sighed with pride. There was no better way to ring in the new year than in the company of new friends, and having an opportunity to decorate the castle was an exciting privilege. The moment Thomas assigned her to join their growing event committee, she knew it was going to be fun.

_ I feel like I’m really starting to settle in. _

The shaman smiled to herself. She was starting to wonder if the purpose behind her resurrection was somehow tied to the new friends and experiences she was having at Budehuc. Her time in the Alma Kinan clan was so limited. This second life was full of surprises and new people. Was this part of her new purpose?

A dark presence suddenly approached from behind. 

“You. Woman. I’m looking for a red-headed man.”

She looked over her shoulder. An unfamiliar man loomed overhead. His aura rolled off him in thick waves. “A red-headed man?”

“Silver-haired man too. Doesn’t matter which one. Seed? Culgan?”

Yun shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away. It was immediately obvious by his aura that this man was more than he seemed. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him out of sheer curiosity. And most interestingly of all...

_ If my second life is all about experiences, this will certainly be a new one. _

“Do the names ring a bell? Speak up!”

“I apologize, sir,” she stood up and dusted herself off. “I can’t say I’ve heard of either of them, but I would not be surprised if perhaps they are here. Have you recently arrived? Welcome to Budehuc Castle. My name is Yun, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she bowed, “please don’t mind the mess, I’m just taking down decorations from the New Year’s party.”

“Yun, eh? I'm used to messy places. This castle... Who _ actually _ owns it?”

“Thomas is master of the castle. Please be kind to him, it's his first time running a castle. Though, he is doing a good job, if I may say so myself,” she smiled. Something about his tone hinted that he most likely already met Thomas and was less than impressed.

“So Thomas really _ is _ the owner of the castle. Could've fooled me…” the man grunted. 

“It’s a shame you missed the party,” she continued to smile and sealed the box. “I hope you stay for our next event.”

“Next event? Parties are a waste of time... not that I wouldn't mind a little 'fun' every now and then,” he grinned darkly. “I’d much rather find something more..._constructive _ to do.”

“Something constructive? For a warrior such as yourself?” she blinked and sized him up. Between his broad stature and ornate armor, even for someone who grew up in a secluded clan it was immediately obvious he was accustomed to battle. “Hm... not at the moment, though my birthday's coming up soon,” she sheepishly giggled, “not like I have anything planned for that yet...I will be planning for a Valentine's Day party later this month. Are you looking to join my planning committee?”

“As if I would waste my time on something so useless. Birthday, eh? Are you hinting anything, Yun?” Her answer seemed to amuse him, and something in his aura rippled. “And who cares for Valentines... pfft, _ love_. HAHAHAHAHA! Who needs that?”

“Who needs love?” she giggled in spite of herself. His laughter was unsettling and cold. “I suppose it’s a bit early to plan for a Valentine’s Day party, but I hope to make it fun for everyone.”

The whispers of the spirits filled her ears. They had a lot to say about this man and even more to show. But despite their warnings, Yun’s curiosity to pry and explore won out. 

The man smirked. The edge to his voice eased slightly. He was definitely amused. “It's been some time since I've last seen someone giggle in front of me. What fun is there in planning an event of that nature?” He tapped the blade sitting at his hip, “If anything, _ this _ is my companion.”

“Your sword is your companion? But...there must be something other than your sword that you turn to... not everyone can depend on their weapons or skills.”

“How dare you question my skill with a sword?! Do you know who I am? I am Luca Blight, I don't _ need _ anyone to turn to—I sustain myself by _ fighting_.”

Yun politely bowed. “I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to question your skills. But we're both from two different wars, so we have not met until recently. Though, it would probably be nice to see you in combat or practicing. It's one of the things I like to do at the castle, since I'm from a village of all women and they mostly use crossbows back at home.”

“Hmph. You have some manners too, young lady. But I am surprised you have not heard of me considering my swordsmanship is unmatched. If you _ do _insist on seeing my skills in action, you'll be amazed at how proficient I am with a blade compared to everyone else at this castle—” Luca stopped in the midst of praising himself and narrowed his eyes. “Two different wars? What do you mean by that?”

_ Forgive me, spirits. I said too much. _

“One of your stature and skill...it’s clear you have seen your share of war. And if I haven’t heard of you before...that could only mean we’ve participated in separate wars.”

His aura flickered. She sensed his curiosity. It was clear he wanted to ask for more information, but something was holding him back. “Hmph. I have plenty of time to learn more,” he growled, “It looks like I’ll be staying here for some time.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she clasped her hands together. The words weren’t a lie, she was just as curious about him. “Then I expect to see you at the Valentine’s Day party, yes?”

Luca’s eye twitched. “You just said Valentine’s Day was about _ love_. I thought I made my opinions clear.”

“True… although, even though I personally don’t have someone to spend Valentine’s Day with, it gives me no greater joy than to see the other people here happy.”

“Love is the reason why people are weak, and there is no reason to be just like every other scum in this world. I don't get you, giving up your own happiness to make other weaklings happy.”

“I suppose it’s hard to understand if you haven’t experienced it yourself.”

Luca’s earlier amusement faded to irritation and he frowned. “Tch. And I don’t plan to,” he scoffed before turning on his heel and walking away.

Yun stood alone in the hallway and slowly sat herself atop the box of decorations. Her hands shook, but not with fear. She tingled with excitement and curiosity. Of all the new residents arriving at Budehuc, there was something unique about this one. Something special, and something familiar. 

_ That man…he died once before. _

_ He’s just like me. _


	12. Cecile: Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecile shares a moment with Kosanji at the Caleria inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter I've done, but I really like writing for Cecile and the dogs.

The stars outside the window of her room at the inn twinkled tauntingly. They were free and unfettered in the sky, able to look down anywhere they wished without anything to stop them. Cecile wrinkled her nose and breathed in the steam curling up from her hot mug of spiced Calerian cream.

“O-Oooo,” Kosanji whimpered from the foot of her bed. 

“I know, Kosanji…” she sighed and ran a comforting hand across his back. “I want to go home too.”

The dog restlessly nuzzled at his dish of breadcrumbs. It was hard seeing him so idle. Although their trip across Mountain Path went smoothly, the heavy snow that followed immediately put a damper on their return. Kosanji seemed just as impatient to resume their travel as she was. 

_ Some garrison commander I am...sitting here drinking spiced cream instead of training! _

“It never snows in Caleria. They say a storm like this only comes once every hundred years, Kosanji,” she laughed to herself. “I suppose this means I’m lucky, right? Not many people can experience a once-in-a-lifetime thing like this...”

Another squall of snow began outside the window, and the stars were blocked from view. Her mind drifted back home. Was everyone okay in her absence? Was the castle safe? Miss Yun, Sir Fred, Juan...Master Thomas...were they doing well? When did she receive her last letter?

The last letter…

Her most recent correspondence with Budehuc was a handwritten note from Thomas two weeks prior. The castle master’s tone was light and friendly—a list of upcoming castle repairs that needed to be completed come springtime, a new recipe Mamie rolled out for the winter months, details surrounding the names of new residents, and an entire paragraph about his experience learning to use a bow and arrow on a hunting trip with Kinnison. 

She read the whole thing from beginning to end multiple times and had nearly every word memorized.

“O-Oooo…” 

“At least I have you here, Kosanji...I don’t know if I’d be brave enough to ring in the new year all by myself!” Cecile tried to keep herself chipper for the dog’s sake, but her words felt hollow. “You know, I had a New Year's resolution all ready to go!”

Kosanji sniffled. Whether it was in disinterest or curiosity was unknown, but she preferred to interpret it as an invitation to continue. 

“I was going to resolve to continue protecting everyone, even better than  _ last _ year!”

“O-Oooo…”

“Ah...I knew you’d see through me,” Cecile sighed and set her mug aside before curling underneath her blankets. “I wasn’t being wholly honest. It’s true, I  _ do _ want to get stronger, but…”

The truth was harder to admit. 

“Actually...it’s more of a wish than anything,” she mumbled. “Kosanji, can you keep a secret…?”

The dog yawned, his dish of breadcrumbs licked clean. He was about to settle down and sleep, so if there was any time to confess deep, dark secrets, now was best. 

“My wish…”

_ If I say it aloud, it makes it real. _

“I wish Master Thomas would write a whole paragraph about me like he did for Sir Kinnison, Kosanji.”


	13. Luca: Acknowledgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luca is reunited with a familiar face from his past and receives a warning for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even the evilest of evil can appreciate a good bath.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from January 19th, 2005.

Thick clouds of steam cascaded across his body as he stepped into the hot water. For all the castle’s shabbiness, even the prince of Highland couldn’t deny the baths at Budehuc were top notch. He absentmindedly ran a hand across his lower back. Fresh, unfamiliar scars covered his body. If his last memories before awakening in the fields bordering Iksay Village were any indication...he had a pretty good idea where they came from.

_ I've been here only for a short while, but this place makes me want to go on a killing spree. _

“Heh, at least it seems I’m feared around here,” Luca mused to himself aloud, “I don't know how many times I've walked around the castle only to find people shiver or turn the other way to avoid me.”

Loneliness ranked high up on his list of “wasteful emotions.” Normally he found himself in the company of bootlickers and peons, but no one at the castle seemed either aware or interested in the significance of his status or title, although they gave him a wide berth in the halls. But even without the company of other people...

“Tch…” he sank deeper into the water. The silence of his rune was unnerving. Initially he was delighted to discover the True Beast Rune decided to merge itself with him, but he expected it to be more responsive. Without its voice, he felt more alone than usual. “What's so great about these holidays everyone has been talking about? Valentine’s Day? Such a waste.” 

Normally the thought of any sort of celebration was laughable. Yet here he was, in a foreign place, covered with new scar tissue from wounds he barely recalled, and not one familiar face to be seen.

_ And my rune is silent. _

Was his last battle that satisfying? Was it able to quench the Beast Rune's thirst for blood into silent dormancy? While there were moments where he contemplated painting the halls red with blood, the raw _ drive _ to murder wasn’t like usual, and without the goading whispers of his rune… Discovering Highland no longer existed left him feeling deflated. What was left for him in this unknown future? _ Who _ was left for him? Alive or dead, it was a cruel punishment, but he welcomed it. 

_ It’s not like I deserve anything less. I will have to rebuild from nothing and start anew. _

“I _ have _ been feeling different since I arrived,” he begrudgingly admitted to himself and closed his eyes. The warm water reached past his shoulders to his chin. “Who’d have thought my first decent conversation in ages would be with a pathetic _ woman_. Yun...she wasn’t afraid of me,” he chuckled. “It’s refreshing. Maybe there’s something more to her.”

A silky voice carved through the steam. “So the rumors are true. Luca Blight lives.”

_ I know that voice. _

A lean, blond figure sat submerged in the baths, reclining against the opposite wall with his arms spread out with casual confidence. His long braid floated across the top of the water.

“Yuber,” a slow grin spread across the Highlander’s face. Finally, someone familiar. “How long were you planning on sitting there in silence?”

“Long enough,” Yuber snickered. There was a menacing twinkle in his red eyes. “How amusing. I could’ve sworn I heard you admitting to having _ feelings_. You? After committing mass murder, you have the complete and utter nerve to even contemplate feelings. I think that’s your libido speaking, as the Alma Kinan shaman is kind to _ everyone_, including myself.”

“You have guts, speaking to me like that. Mind your tongue,” he growled. “I have no use for anything of that nature.”

_ The day those Muse thugs broke my mother… _

A dark memory from his past bubbled up, and Luca immediately pushed it back below the surface. There was no place for that kind of emotion, not after the crimes he witnessed. His interest in the shaman was a pure curiosity and had nothing to do with carnal desire. 

The demon shrugged. “I only thought to warn you, lest you find yourself disappointed with the inevitable outcome.”

“The only outcome I’m looking for is amusement. I assume that’s the same reason why you’re here.”

“Partly. I confess, I heard rumors Luc might be here, and I was curious. You see...I was under the impression the mage was already _ dead_,” Yuber put precise emphasis on the last word and locked eyes with Luca. “Very much like yourself, in fact.”

“Heh. I can’t die. I am _ sublime_—my sitting across from you here and now is testament to that!”

“Maybe...but until I validate the rumors myself, I’m more interested in observing,” Yuber smirked. “There will be plenty of time for blood later. If this is a gathering place for fallen friends and foes, I can only imagine the kind of chaos awaiting us.”

“I never thought delayed gratification was your style,” Luca jeered and rose from the water, wrapping a towel around his waist. “Very well. You’ve piqued my interest. I’ll stay my hand and see how things play out.”

“Restraint? That’s _ almost _ as shocking as an admission of feelings.”

Luca grunted and ignored the demon’s taunts as he exited the baths. He knew that regardless of what he said, Yuber would do whatever amused him most, so for the time being it was better to let him stay entertained. 

_ If Yuber is here...that means chaos can only follow. _

Luca dried his hair and wrapped himself in a robe. The fabric was soft against his skin. When was the last time he indulged in such comforts? Between his reunion with Yuber and the luxury of the castle baths, things were starting to feel less like a punishment and more like a reward...or at the very least, some kind of consolation prize for losing Highland. 

“Oh! I’m sorry!” a woman knocked into him as he exited into the hallway. The stack of towels she was carrying fell to the floor. He stood unflinching and watched her scramble to pick them up without offering assistance. 

_ It’s her. _

Yun stood upright. Her expression lit up in recognition. “Ah! Luca...was it?” she tilted her head, then her eyes flickered across his robe. Her gaze did not go unnoticed, much to his ego’s delight.

“Hmph. You should watch where you’re going.”

“You’re right,” she giggled sheepishly. “I told Goro I’d help tidy up, but I guess my mind was elsewhere,” Yun idly twirled a loose strand of black hair around her finger, her dark eyes looking off to the side. Something about her...he hated to admit it, but her appearance wasn’t wholly dissimilar to Jillia… but the simple thought of his half-sister immediately soured his mood.

“There you go again, wasting your time doing something for other people. Maybe one of these days you’ll learn life is more fun when you put yourself first instead of planning stupid parties.”

“You know, some people love holidays because you can spend them with your loved ones, friends, or simply for fun. To me...that _ is _ having fun. That’s why I try to plan things for others.”

“Tch. Wasteful.”

“Well, they _ are _ a lot of work, and I am only one person…” she suddenly frowned and clung the towels closer to her chest. “I’m determined to see you have some fun on Valentine’s Day, whether you like it or not.”

“I don't have any loved ones… not even my 'sister' or my worthless excuse of a father. I don't like parties or events, so what makes you so sure I'd go anywhere with you, no matter how determined you are?”

_ Heh. Does she think she can make demands of me? _

“I think you’d be surprised by how much fun Valentine’s Day can be! After all, it’s a new year, right?”

Something in her expression was unsettling. For a brief moment it almost felt as though she _ knew _things—things he wasn’t about ready to share. 

“Valentine’s Day again? I am incapable of loving anyone, and no one will ever love me. You are wasting your time, woman.”

“Really? Why do you believe that you can't love anyone? Given time, I’m sure you will find someone who will interest you,” she smiled quietly, her expression serene. “After all, you _ are _ still human.”

“I can't love anyone because I sustain myself by fighting. I’ve told you this. This world is all about strength, and the ones who have power are tasked with putting the weak in their place. That's how this world was designed!”

“Maybe the world you once knew was like that...but can’t you see this is something brand new?”

That damned knowing smile was back. He wanted to wipe it from her face. Why did it feel like she could see into his soul? _ He _ was supposed to be the powerful one, so why did it feel like _ she _ was in control? 

Luca suddenly punched his fist into the wall with a crack, trapping her in the hallway. Seeing her jump in surprise was immensely gratifying. “Let me tell you something, _ Yun_,” he leaned down and stared into her eyes, “you know _ nothing _ about me. Love makes people weak. Even if I did love someone, she would never accept the sins I committed. I've lived my whole life alone, why would this change things now?”

She blinked in surprise, but there was no fear in her expression. He started to feel like he was losing the upper hand again. The smile returned to the shaman’s face once more as she balanced the towels in one arm. “You haven’t realized it yet, have you? Of _ course _ things are going to change. We are the _ same_, Luca.”

“The same? Don’t make me laugh, woman. You have _ nothing _in common with me.”

“That’s not true, you’re the only other person I’ve met at Budehuc yet who _ died_.”

_ What. _

Hearing her openly—no, _ joyously _ admit that he _ died_...it made it feel real, and he didn’t like that. There was a part of his mind that was still coming to grips with his loss on the battlefield and whether or not this truly was hell or something more. His fist shook as he withdrew it from the wall. “I did not _ die. _ And if I did, this is not a new beginning. I will continue living exactly as I did before.”

The shaman reached out and grabbed his retreating hand in hers, still holding the stack of towels in her other arm. A string of visions flashed in front of his eyes at her touch—the cold interior of a solitary jail cell, faces of people he had yet to meet and didn’t recognize, the warm flickering of a lantern, rolls of gauze bandage, crackling fireworks shimmering overhead, blood-stained snow—

He jerked back. “What is this!?”

Yun drew her hand away from him and resumed clutching the towels. Her expression was embarrassed, like a child caught in the middle of disobeying orders. “I wanted to share with you… there are so many new beginnings the spirits can see for you. Aren’t you excited to find the purpose behind your resurrection?”

“Purpose…? What kind of magic is this?”

“I’m a shaman of Alma Kinan,” she nodded. “Several years ago, I surrendered my spirit as part of a ritual. Yet I’ve returned to life. I don’t know how or why...somehow I’ve aged with the passage of time, but _ you_—time _ stopped _for you and has restarted anew. You began the same as the day you died, didn’t you?”

His memory briefly drifted back to the sight of his fresh collection of scars, and he shook his head. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being correct.

“Your death was different from mine. I offered my soul, but yours was torn from you. Yet we are the _ same_—”

“Silence! I...I am _ nothing _ like you,” he spat. “Are you so eager to _ die_, woman?!”

“Oh dear,” she giggled. “That wouldn’t do you any good. You have aspirations, yes? Plans?”

That knowing look was back. He hated it. “Whatever I’m planning is none of _ your _concern. My patience listening to your voice is wearing thin,” Luca's hand reached for his sword before he remembered he was still wearing the bathrobe. 

“All I’m saying is that based on what I’ve heard from the spirits… let’s just say none of those plans of yours will come to fruition if you feed your bloodlust.”

“Heh. Your ignorance knows no bounds, woman.”

“Perhaps,” she smiled and wrapped her arms closer around the towels. “But it seems I was correct about your rebirth. It would do you well to heed my warning if you ever hope to achieve what you are seeking. Not everyone gets a second chance at life, after all.”

A growing sense of discomfort and unease rose in his chest. Everything she said was making too much sense, and he wanted to hear more. But hearing meant _ acknowledgment_, something he wasn’t ready for yet. Acknowledgment that he truly died, but even more infuriating...

_ Telling me not to kill… is this woman really that insolent? _

“We are done with this conversation. You should consider yourself honored to have wasted so much of my time and still walk away alive.”

“I see…” she didn’t look honored in the least, only curious. “Well then, please have a good evening. I’ll stop by to say hello at a later date, and we can discuss plans for the Valentine’s Day party, yes?”

“Tch. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much,” she smiled.


	14. Fred: Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred Maximillian lends a helping hand preparing for Budehuc's Valentine's Day event and experiences an unsettling introduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fred continues to be a joy to write. How fortunate it was against the rules to murder other characters back in the days of Livejournal, otherwise he probably would not have survived this chapter.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from February 7th, 2005.

“Master Thomas, I’m _ deeply _honored that you would request my assistance! Truly, my appreciation knows no bounds!”

The young castle master uttered a hesitant laugh. “T-thank you, Sir Fred. I promised Miss Yun to get the cafe tables prepared for Valentine’s Day, but…” he helplessly looked out at the long line of empty tables at the castle inn. Dust lazily drifted in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “I think perhaps I bit off more than I could chew.”

“No matter!” Fred immediately gathered an armful of tablecloths. “Between the two of us, we will make swift work of it!”

“Yes, you are probably right,” Thomas nodded and resumed wiping down the wooden tabletops. He seemed distracted, and although Fred did not like to pry...oh, it was _ hard _ not to. He was a Maximillian, and _ nobly _ prying—er, _ assisting _ wherever possible was simply part of their calling in life. 

“Master Thomas, if I may…”

“Y-yes?”

Fred spread out another tablecloth. “I hope I’m not being too forward in asking, but...this party—it’s consisting of private dinners hosted by the cafe for couples, correct?”

“Correct,” Thomas looked down at his clipboard. “Yun and Mamie were in agreement that it’d serve as a good opportunity to try out some new recipes while hosting couples celebrating the holiday.” 

“So then, are _ you _ participating?” The question tumbled out impatiently, but the Maximillian Knight was far too curious to hear the answer to be concerned with decorum. 

Thomas turned a faint shade of pink. “W-well, er...I...I uh…”

“I see! Very well then, please don’t let me pry the answer from you against your own will! It wouldn’t be fitting at all, I understand.”

The young man coughed and suddenly became deeply engrossed in the contents of his clipboard. “Kinnison...offered to participate, and seeing as he had no companion to partner with...I ah…”

_ Hm, well...that’s not exactly what I was expecting, but what a sporting offer! _

“It’s really coming along here, you two!” Yun stood in the doorway holding a stack of boxes. “We should be nearly done soon.”

“L-Lady Yun,” all his earlier bravado instantly evaporated, “of course, we are making fast work!”

Yun giggled and walked between them, setting her box down atop the nearest cleared table. Fred’s eyes watched her across the room. She moved with light ease, as if drifting atop clouds with each step. It was still hard for him to accept that she truly was alive.

“You’re in my way, pig.”

A large man stood in the doorway carrying the biggest box. He glowered impatiently. If looks could kill, Fred was convinced he’d already be six feet underground simply for standing in the way. 

“E-excuse me, my apologies!” Fred scrambled off to the side as the man lumbered in. He dropped the box onto the floor with little consideration for its fragile contents.

“Luca, please be careful!” Yun flitted across the room and fussed over the contents of the box. “Thank goodness, I almost thought the candlesticks were broken!”

“I-it’s okay if they break,” Thomas mumbled. He was still busying himself with the clipboard. Fred couldn’t help but notice the new sheet of paper on top was completely blank. “I think I need to go check on the status of Mamie’s menu...will the three of you be okay?”

Luca narrowed his eyes and sneered. “Running already, are we? Heh. Some ‘castle master.’ I knew from the moment I met you—I know your type.”

Thomas withered under the man’s stare. “I-it’s rather crowded with four of us here, so…” he quietly backpedaled then slipped out the open door. 

_ Oh dear, poor Master Thomas… _

But with Thomas gone, Fred suddenly felt very alone with the two of them. Luca’s attention turned away from the door and back onto the Maximillian Knight.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll introduce you to six feet of steel shoved down your throat.”

Fred flinched and set down the next tablecloth. “My apologies, Master Luca, was it? I don’t mean to stare! I just don’t believe we’ve been acquainted yet.”

Yun continued to smile as she set out the candlestick holders, gliding across the room. “Don’t mind him, Sir Fred—Luca’s just a little cranky. But I know deep down he’s excited to celebrate his first Valentine’s Day with everyone at Budehuc.”

If looks could kill, Yun would be residing in the graveyard plot next to Fred’s. The wax candlestick Luca was holding abruptly snapped in two in his fist. “The _ only _ thing I’m doing this holiday is painting the walls red with blood.”

The shaman giggled. “As much as I appreciate color-coded decorations, I’m sorry. I simply won’t permit it.”

“Y-yes,” Fred was disappointed by how unsteady his voice sounded in Yun’s presence, “Lady Yun is correct. This is a holiday meant for celebrating with loved ones! So—”

“Are _ you _ going to try and stop me, maggot?”

“U-uh...um...well, I hope it doesn’t come to that,” he mumbled.

“Heh. You'd best _ hope _ it doesn't come down to that.”

“Yes... I agree... violence is not a proper way to conduct business,” Fred found himself breaking eye contact and desperately wishing Thomas left behind his blank clipboard.

“Violence solves _ everything_, pig!”

“Boys, boys—” Yun gracefully swept between the two of them and laid out the last tablecloth. “If we’re all this fussy about stirring something up, maybe our next event can be a tournament hosted by Juan.”

_ Lady Yun, how do you always manage to say the right thing? _

Fred admired the shaman’s ability to diffuse any situation. Even Luca’s temper subsided at her voice. He scoffed and kicked the empty box across the room. “Whatever. A tournament would be a waste of time. I’m _ invincible_, and I triumph over _ everyone_.”

“Master Luca, some sporting fun never hurt anyone!” Fred felt his courage return, basking in the light of Yun’s encouraging smile, “Hopefully Lady Yun will be a good influence on you.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAA,” Luca crushed the remaining cardboard box under his foot. “I assure you. _ No one _ is going to change me. Enjoy your pathetic fantasy, _ pigs. _ Because that’s _ all _ it will ever be,” he grunted and stormed out of the inn, slamming the door as he exited.

_ Heavens, that was more difficult than the physical labor. _

“L...Lady Yun…” Fred weakly slumped into a nearby chair. “I don’t know how you do it. You truly have the patience of an angel.”

Yun’s serene smile was unaffected. “I admit...I might be trying to bend things a little bit beyond where I ought to. But the more the spirits show me...the more I want to see what my own role is,” she murmured to herself. 

The Maximillian Knight sat silently. He was curious to know just what the spirits were sharing, but it felt almost sacrilegious to ask. 

_ Your role...whatever it is, Lady Yun, I hope the answer makes you happy. _


	15. Cecile: Accompany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nash makes his debut and attempts to hitch a ride back to Budehuc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly a shorter chapter. Nash was never my favorite character initially, but he grew on me.

“Oh, this is such a relief! I never thought I’d see a familiar face all the way out here! And even better, we’re headed back the same way!” 

“O-Oooo…”

“Kosanji! I’m having a conversation, don’t be rude and interrupt!” Cecile gave the dog a good-natured pat on the head before hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “Sir Nash, do you travel this way often?”

“Oh, you know…” the Harmonian shrugged and pulled on a glove before running it through his wavy blond hair. The midday sun overhead was deceptively bright despite the chill in the February air. “I’m all over the place. Part of the job, I suppose. If anyone should be surprised, it’d be _ me_! This is as far from Budehuc as things get. What brings you out here, Cecile?”

She tapped her spear against her shoulder, making a small clinking sound with each step. “I was on a journey, you see—I thought if I traveled out this way by myself, I’d get stronger!”

He chuckled. “And how did that work out for you?”

“Hm...maybe a _ little _ stronger. Father used to come out this way all the time on trips for the same purpose, so I figured maybe it’d work for me too!”

Nash cast her a kind smile. “Traveling alone can be pretty special for personal growth. I’m glad to hear you’re open-minded. But…” he looked across the rugged mountain trail sprawling ahead of them and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m thinking it might be time for me to unwind for a while somewhere fun. And if Budehuc is as busy as you say—”

“Oh, it’s _ super _ busy! We have so many new people! Miss Yun is back, Sir Geddoe and Lady Queen have returned, and then there’s Sir Clive and Sir Kinnison, but there are some other names on this list I don’t recognize, like Sir Cray and Sir Luca and Sir Tai Ho and—”

“Yun? Didn’t she...w-wait,” Nash sputtered and looked as though he swallowed a whole furfly, “L-_Luca_?” 

“That’s what Master Thomas wrote,” she nodded. “And I know because I _ memorized _ his letter!”

“Did...he say anything else?”

“Well, he wrote a lovely description of an upcoming party, but unfortunately I don’t think we’ll make it back in time—”

“No, did he say anything else about _ Luca_.”

Cecile shook her head. “Are they someone you know?”

“...Maybe. Could just be the same name,” the earlier sparkle in his charismatic smile was nowhere to be seen. Instead the man looked quite pale in the sunlight. Cecile could sense he was anxious by the small, quick clouds of vapor forming from his breath as he exhaled.

“Do… you still want to go back to Budehuc?”

Nash nervously laughed and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Of course. I could be wrong. But if I’m not...well, Thomas is a man now. I trust his judgment. I can’t see him allowing someone dangerous to stay.”

_ Wait. What? _

“D..._ dangerous_?! Sir Nash, I came out here on my trip to train and get stronger because _ Yuber _ is back at Budehuc! You don’t mean to tell me there are _ more _ dangerous people back home?!” 

“I-I didn’t say that!”

“This whole time I’ve been _ here_, and everyone I care about is _ there_, and I’m not keeping them safe!”

“Cecile, calm down!” 

Kosanji anxiously trotted at her side, bouncing back and forth between her and Nash’s ankles across the rocky terrain. “O-Oooo…”

“P-please stop interrupting me, Kosanji!”

“Cecile—” Nash swung out in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her mid-flail. “If this is troubling you that much, why don’t you just use the Blinking Mirror?”

“I can’t do that, Sir Nash!”

“I know this was a training mission and all, but you’ve gotten _ plenty _ stronger. So if time is of the essence, let’s just cut to the chase and teleport back, okay?” Something glimmered in the corner of his eye. Was this the real reason why he was so eager to accompany her back to Budehuc? For a free ride?

“I didn’t bring it with me.”

“Y-you what?”

“It was a _ training _ mission, Sir Nash!”

The Harmonian slumped. “So...we really do have to walk all the way back…”

“But just think, Sir Nash! We’ll get even stronger on the way back!”

Nash groaned. “Yeah, stronger...haha…”

_ If things are really as bad as Sir Nash says, we need all the strength we can get! _


	16. Juan: Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Juan's morning routine is interrupted by a certain distraught teleportation mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my former arch-nemesis Kenken, I hope you are well and never lose your creativity.

Four laps around the race track. Fifty pushups. One hundred jumping jacks. All part of his early-morning warmup routine, and typically the prelude to a warm bowl of baked oats followed by a nap in an unoccupied corner of the Budehuc library. And the nap was assuredly going to be a cozy one, given the light snow falling from the sky. 

All things considered, it should have been the start of a perfect day. Yet sixteen jumping jacks in, and Juan was thrown off his routine by the sounds of sobbing. He paused and craned his neck towards the sound. 

_ Cecile? _

_ Nah. She’s still traveling. And she blubbers when she cries. This is too soft. _

He picked his ear. Maybe he was hearing things. 

_ Nope, still hearing it. _

Certain birds were known for making sounds very similar to crying humans. And birds didn’t require intervention. They were capable of solving their own problems. Which meant he wouldn’t have to break his routine to investigate. 

Five more jumping jacks. The sobs continued. It was definitely human.

Juan sighed. “Okay, I can take a hint,” he lunged forward and stretched his hamstring before bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So much for my morning workout…I’d never hear the end of this if I let something slide while ‘patrolling’ anyways.”

The race track was deserted, a light coating of snow covering the ground. If anyone had come by, their footprints would still be visible, but none were to be found, save for Juan’s own. He scanned the perimeter, but the sounds were too close, almost as if they were directly _ above _ him instead— 

Something landed on his head with a soft thud. Juan immediately twisted into a defensive pose, ready to strike at his unknown assailant, then lowered his arms with a slow exhale. “Ah. Just a boot,” he mused as he crouched, retrieving the shoe. It was small, its design similar to the moccasins worn by the residents of Chisha Village, and made from a buttery, suede-like material. Clearly its owner didn’t do too much travelling by foot judging by the condition.

“Oh, oh no, I’m so, so sorry! Are you okay?!”

“Eh?” Juan looked up, then immediately looked back down again with a red face. Atop a nearby tree branch sat Viki, one foot bare and dangling over the edge, her staff balancing across her lap. How she managed to sit herself up so high was a mystery in itself, but looking up at a girl in a skirt was always a recipe for disaster. “W-what the heck are you doing up there?!”

Viki sniffled. “Sitting,” she answered with an unsteady voice. 

_ Welp. Looks like I found my crier. _

“Everything okay?”

She sniffled again. “I should be asking you that! I didn’t mean to hit you with my shoe…”

Juan sighed. “If you did, I would have commended you for your good aim,” he quipped and scaled the tree with ease, taking precise care _ not _ to accidentally glance up her skirt. He hoisted himself up and sat atop a neighboring branch. Climbing still counted as exercise, so maybe missing out on those extra jumping jacks wouldn’t matter. “So. You birdwatching or something?”

“Birdwatching?”

“You’re in a tree,” he responded plainly as he handed her the missing shoe, then paused, “uh…_crying _ in a tree, that is.”

Viki pulled her moccasin back on and rubbed the tears from her eyes. “W...well…”

The dojo master rested his cheek in his palm and did his best to stifle a yawn. This really wasn’t his forté, but it didn’t feel right to leave someone crying alone in the cold. And Viki truly did look miserable. “You uh… need to talk about it?”

“It’s just… everyone is so _ mad _ at me!” 

“Hey, I’m not mad about the shoe. Seriously.”

“N-no, it’s not that,” she hiccuped. “People keep saying that I’m teleporting them here, but I promise, Juan… I don’t remember any of it!”

Juan wrinkled his nose in thought and dusted the snow off his shoulder. There certainly were some new faces hanging around he wasn’t familiar with, but that was par for the course. He didn’t make it a point to pay attention to all the comings and goings of residents. After all, that required a lot of waking energy, something he was careful to dole out sparingly, and only for worthwhile ventures. “I mean, if you’re teleporting a lot of people, maybe you just don’t remember because you’ve been so busy?”

“I don’t remember _ any _ of it!”

“Okay, like who, for example?”

“Well, for starters, there’s… um... Clive, and then Kinnison, not to mention Tai Ho,” Viki began to count on her fingers, growing increasingly distressed with each name, “and even _ Luca _ is here! I definitely would’ve remembered teleporting someone as awful as him!”

None of those names really registered on Juan’s radar, meaning none of them had made the time to stop by his dojo or interrupt his naps. This time he was unable to stifle a yawn. “Okay, so? They’re mad at you, right? You’ve accidentally teleported us plenty of times. Sure, it’s a hassle, but we manage. Why don’t they just go back home themselves?”

“Go back home? Juan, Luca Blight’s supposed to be _ dead_!”

_ Oh. Well, that’s problematic. _

“You teleported a corpse to Budehuc? We can deal with that. Twaikin left behind plenty of holes—”

Viki sobbed and buried her face in her hands. “N-no!” she wailed, “he’s not dead anymore! He’s _ alive_, and he’s _ here_, and now...now… I don’t know what’s gonna happen! And _ Little Viki _ is mad at me too!”

“Ah,” Juan relaxed slightly. Explaining to Thomas why he was assisting Viki with burying a dead body in the Budehuc cemetery wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to have. A living resident was easier to manage. “Look, your… littler self has always been kind of cranky. Why is this time any different?”

“She’s really mad, Juan,” Viki whispered, her fingers curling tighter around her magic wand. “She said… I might break the whole universe if this keeps up.”

“Break the whole universe? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She said they’re not supposed to be here,” Viki swallowed back another sob, “and… and a lot of other complicated stuff. I didn’t really understand it all, but she sounded so upset! And Luca isn’t even the _ first _ dead person! Yun is here, and she died before too!”

Juan bit the inside of his cheek. The Alma Kinan shaman seemed sweet enough, and she was quick to endear herself to the locals with little effort, maybe a little too quickly in some regards. But he knew from Chris Lightfellow’s stories that she was definitely dead. “Okay, so there’s two formerly dead people. Isn’t this a good thing? I mean, who wouldn’t want another shot at life, right?”

“But it’s not _ supposed _ to happen!”

“But it did. So we just have to run with it, right?”

Viki sniffled again. “How am I supposed to do that if it’s all my fault?”

“Look. The way I see it, even if you _ did _ teleport them here, can you send them back?”

“N...no…”

“Then what do they expect you to do?”

The young mage blinked. She pursed her lips in thought, looked back down at the ground, then up at him with a quizzical expression. “I… I don’t really know, actually.”

“Exactly my point. Sure, they’re mad, but if there’s nothing you can _ do_, then it’s pointless to fixate on it,” Juan stretched and yawned a second time. “It’s just a waste of time you could be spending on more important stuff.”

Viki rolled the staff of her wand across the palm of her hands in pensive thought. “But Little Viki says this _ is _ important stuff…”

“Okay, and do you know how to resolve it?”

“I…”

“Right. So if it’s that important, and you have no clue, let _ her _ figure it out,” Juan reached over and ruffled her hair, then awkwardly pulled back after a moment in embarrassment. This wasn’t Cecile he was comforting—it was one thing to rumple the hair of a childhood friend, but a completely different matter to do it to someone else. He coughed. “So… I guess what I’m saying is, just keep doing whatever you’re doing and try not to worry so much.”

“Wow, Juan,” Viki’s eyes were shining. She stared at him with breathless adoration. “That’s… that makes me feel _ heaps _ better! Oh, I’m so glad you were here!”

“I uh… you are?”

“I am!” she nodded. “You’re right, I’m just gonna keep doing my best!”

Juan offered a sheepish thumbs up. “That’s all you can do, right?”

“Yeah! That’s ri..._ ah_…” Viki suddenly froze and sneezed, blinking out of sight with a soft _ pop_. 

The branch she was sitting on moments earlier rustled at the abrupt loss of her body weight, sending a drift of snow down to the ground. Juan reflexively gripped his own branch tighter. He was no stranger to Viki’s sneezing fits, but it never got any easier to witness her vanish into thin air. 

“Heh...guess it’s back to training then,” he hopped down from the tree with a smooth landing. Even if it did interrupt his morning, there would be plenty of time for catching up on the rest of his routine. It was impossible to stay irritated, especially knowing he was able to reassure Viki somehow.

And the look of gratitude on her face was enough to make Juan feel warmer inside than any bowl of hot oats and a nap in the library could. The bujutsu teacher smiled to himself and resumed his jumping jacks.


	17. Yun: Ownership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yun's curiosity continues to lead to bad things, and Luca Blight makes demands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't try this at home. I do not personally condone the contents of this chapter. This is is unhealthy on so many levels.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are inferred from a chat log that has been lost, but took place in February, 2005.

“This was the _ best _idea I think we’ve had in ages!”

Yun giggled and passed Mamie the last written dinner order of the night. The Budehuc Valentine’s Dinner was wrapping up, and it was undoubtedly a great success judging by the flurry of attendees. “Your wild boar roast seems to be the winning menu item! I took three orders for it, and everyone was singing its praises. Are you going to be able to keep up with the demand after this event?”

“Heh,” the chef tapped her spatula against her shoulder and grinned, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Don’t underestimate me. You’ve done enough to help, so get outta here and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I would hate to walk through the main exit and disrupt things...did you see how nervous poor Master Thomas was? How _ forward _ of Sir Kinnison…!” 

“Did I ever…” Mamie snickered, “Actually, if y’can just pop by the storeroom and check to make sure I have enough dried tomatoes? Wan Fu hasn’t been back since the war, so my stock is pretty consistent these days, but—”

“Say no more,” Yun bowed. “I’m happy to help, Mamie.”

Yun slipped out the back exit as she made her way to the storeroom. A light layer of snow coated the ground. She rubbed her hands together in attempts to keep warm and admired the next round of lazy flakes falling from the sky. 

Even if the work was hard, even if it was straining and tiring, even if the air was cold and biting, they were all undeniable signs of being alive. The young shaman embraced every emotion, good and bad. Whatever the purpose behind her resurrection was, she was determined to enjoy as much as she could in the meantime. She closed her eyes and turned her head up to the sky, delighting in the touch of snowflakes landing atop her eyelashes.

_ All these sensations… spirits, I’m so grateful for another chance at life. _

“You look like an idiot standing in the cold like that, you know.”

Yun quickly blinked the snow off her eyes and turned to face the sound of the voice. Luca leaned against the stone wall of the sublevel entrance with his arms folded. His dark, heavy brows were set in a judgmental frown.

“I’m just appreciating the snow,” she smiled. “Same as you.”

“Tch. There you go again with comparing us. What makes you think I’d do something so worthless?”

“Well...your hair,” she gestured at the smattering of flakes dusting his hair, “meaning you’ve been standing out here long enough to appreciate the snow as well.”

“I’m not appreciating _ anything_.”

A playful smile tugged at her lips. “Why else would you be standing out here for so long then? Or were you _ waiting _ for me?”

He glared in silence and his aura flickered. 

_ He really did wait. I didn’t think he’d actually listen when I said I’d make him participate on Valentine’s Day. _

“Don’t delude yourself, woman. Do you think I’d be as stupid as you to waste my time on others?”

Yun smiled and laced her fingers behind her back. “Putting the happiness of others first isn’t a waste. If anything, it makes me happy in return. I guess that makes me selfish too in a way.”

“Selfish? Don’t make me laugh,” he unfolded his arms. “If you’re so focused on putting the happiness of other weaklings before your own, then I have something I want.”

A curious fluttering sensation pressed against the walls of her chest. The voices of the spirits rose in protest—nothing good was ever going to come of this—but the temptation was too much to deny. “A request? On Valentine’s Day?”

“Request?” he snorted, “Don’t be stupid. I don’t make requests. I take what I want, holiday or not.”

“And what is it you want?”

“Tell me more about this war of yours. Tell me about _ my _ war. No… better—_show _me. Like what you did before.”

“My...my visions?”

“I don’t care what you call it,” he grabbed her hand. “Whatever it was, I want you to do it again.”

Yun blushed. Did he think he could trigger a vision through sheer willpower alone? “L-Luca, it doesn’t really work that way. The spirits choose what they allow me to see… I can only receive what they decide.”

He frowned and tightened his grip on her hand. Yun could sense he was suppressing his strength. “Are you saying what you showed me is false!?”

“N-no! Not false, but…” her fingers twitched uncomfortably. “Not everything I see sometimes comes to pass. I see..._ possibilities_, potential outcomes, futures that may or may not happen. I can’t look backwards, only forwards.”

Luca’s expression was dark. The fluttering sensation in her chest only worsened under his gaze. “Then...the details behind what happened to Highland...I’m going to have to find out the old-fashioned way,” he growled under his breath. “And those other things you showed me… I want _ answers_, dammit.”

“I...I’m sorry, Luca. I wish there was something I could do for you. It’s..._ difficult_,” she hesitated, searching for the right word, “difficult returning to a world that’s almost familiar, but not quite. You feel like everything moved on without you while you were gone.”

He grimaced. The shaman didn’t even have to read his aura to know that her words struck a sore spot. “Why...why do _ you _ understand? _ How _ do you understand when months have passed, and _ I _ still know _ nothing_?”

“But I _ don’t _understand,” she answered, “I don’t always understand what I see, or the meaning behind it. I don’t know why I’m alive again. I don’t know why my body aged and yours did not. I don’t know why people are appearing here from all over time and space,” Yun drew a slow breath, the tips of her fingers beginning to grow cold in his grip, “All I can do is keep moving forward and take what the spirits show me to heart—and maybe try pushing my own desires through and shape my destiny around them.”

Luca’s stare was unsettling. It was growing difficult to read him, and the falling flakes of snow were beginning to accumulate between the two of them. 

“I...I’m sorry,” she sighed.

“Why do you even _ care_?” Luca growled. His hold on her hand seemed to intensify with his frustration. “Be _ selfish _ for a change. All this apologizing... it makes you _ weak_.” 

“Because I’m just like you. We’re looking for answers,” the shaman lowered her voice, “and because...the spirits are telling me not to… I’m curious to see what happens when I defy them. I’ll just have to take ownership of the consequences, that’s all.”

“Consequences, huh…” Luca looked down at her hand still locked within his grip, then jerked her closer, his lips lightly grazing hers. 

_ Wh...what? _

Yun’s eyes went wide as he drew back with a cocky smirk. “I don’t make requests. I take what I want. And today,” he released her hand, “I’m taking ownership of you. I _ will _ get my answers.”

“I...L-Luca, are you _ asking me out_?”

“Feh, whatever you want to call it. You’re _ mine_, woman.”

Color rose to her cheeks. Without a doubt, this was not something the spirits encouraged. Their protests rang in her ears. All possible outcomes for this path did not end well. But this was a second chance at life, after all. Maybe things would go differently.

_ Spirits...I hope I don’t come to regret this. _


	18. Thomas: Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Landis reaps something from Thomas, and Cecile returns to Budehuc after a long winter in Caleria with Nash in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We never did find out why all the dogs of Budehuc enjoy defiling Nash's socks, did we? Biggest unanswered canon question for the whole series.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from March 9th, 2005.

For the first time in weeks, the thick cover of clouds and grey skies finally broke. The month of March was always a bit of a gamble, and Thomas couldn’t help but hope spring this year would come early. Maybe once the weather cleared he’d be able to accompany Kinnison on another hunt…

“Huh huh huh...having fun, castle master?”

“W-what!?” Thomas sat up in his chair with a jerk, then immediately pushed the chair backwards. A familiar face hovered only inches from his, upside down in mid-air. The faintest scent of fish lingered on his breath. Budehuc's resident winger wasn't known for making frequent social calls, and even less for socializing. So whenever he _did_ decide to make an appearance, shenanigans assuredly followed. “L-L-Landis, what are you doing in here?!”

“Hee hee, wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I _ would _ like to know, please,” he coughed and put on his best stern voice. 

The winger continued to cackle and did a lazy somersault in mid-air. “Maybe I’ll tell you if you ask nicely. I waited _ allllll _winter for you to figure it out, but you never did! Disappointing!”

“Figure...it out?”

“Something that belongs to you was given as an offering to the Grim Reaper, but you were too busy to even notice, huh huh.”

“Landis, if this is about the missing socks, _ please_… don’t return them. Just...keep them. I’m sure the...er, _ Grim Reaper _ will be satisfied with them.”

Landis sniggered and did a mock backstroke. His leathery black wings rippled with each gesture, and he flashed a toothy smirk. “The Grim Reaper prefers when his offerings are noticed, but since you didn’t even see...he’s generous enough to return them to you. There’s no fun reaping from people who don’t care, hee hee…”

The young castle master squirmed uncomfortably. Whatever Landis took from him, it probably wasn’t socks this time. “Landis...if you have something of mine, I’d appreciate it if you return it, please.”

“Yuh huh huh, the castle master is actually curious now?” 

Thomas sighed. “Yes. _ Please_?”

“Hee hee hee…” Landis reached into his tattered shirt and procured a stack of envelopes bound together with twine. He tossed the stack back and forth between his hands before dropping it on Thomas’s head with another cackle. “Just in time for today’s news, hee hee!”

“Today’s...news…?” 

Landis did another spin in the air and flew out the door. “You’ll see, huh huh huh…”

Thomas rubbed his forehead as the stack slid off and landed in his lap. Whatever Landis took from him was heavier than it appeared. He untied the bundle and leafed through a pile of envelopes. Every single one was addressed to him. Postage marks and paper coloration varied, but the handwriting was very consistent and very familiar. His stomach felt heavy with dread as the realization dawned on him.

_ This is...months and months of letters from Cecile. _

“I thought it was strange that I hadn’t heard from her, but…” Thomas stared at the pile splayed across his desk and grimaced. How could he have let himself get so carried away? Why didn’t it dawn on him sooner? After a week went by without any word, he recalled briefly wondering, but…

_ I was so wrapped up with my own duties… _

No, that was a lie. He knew it was a lie and felt even worse. 

_ I was too distracted spending time with Kinnison_.

How many times had he actually written to her? Without receiving any written word in return, he assumed she was simply busy and didn’t prioritize reaching out. Thomas scoured his memory...two letters? Three? He knew he didn’t send more than three all winter. Yet here was a stack that easily spanned 2-3 letters on a _ weekly _ basis. After years of friendship, he knew her better than to assume she’d barely write, yet he went the entire winter without questioning her silence.

“Master Thomas!” A booming voice sounded from the doorway and roused him from his gloom. Fred Maximillian waved a beckoning hand. “Wonderful news! Lady Cecile has just returned, and Sir Nash is with her!”

_ Ah. That was what Landis meant by ‘today’s news’... _

Of course the winger knew before anyone else. He could fly. Even if Landis didn’t derive satisfaction from initially stealing Cecile’s letters, he still managed to get the last laugh in delivering them the day she returned. 

“T-that’s wonderful news indeed,” Thomas rose from his seat and walked alongside Fred as they descended the staircase. “Thank you for letting me know, Sir Fred.”

“Of course, Master Thomas! Truth be told, their return was a little earlier than expected!”

“E-earlier?”

“Well, in her last letter she noted they planned to be back by mid-March. How fortuitous they made such good time! I am impressed given the bleak weather as of late.”

_ Even Fred was receiving letters...what have I been doing? _

The raucous sounds of barking reached his ears before he even set eyes on the crowd. Juan struggled to walk across the courtyard, the welcome basket dogs circling around his feet and yipping with excitement. The dojo master looked haggard and frustrated. 

“Juan!” Cecile’s voice rang out across the grounds and she clattered over to him. “Don’t step on them! Be careful!”

“Yeah yeah,” Juan rolled his eyes and shuffled off to the side, giving the dogs full access to their favorite person. “I’m only interrupting my morning nap because it’s _ you_, so you should be happy I came to greet you.”

“He wasn’t napping at all,” Queen approached from behind with a laugh, “not with all the dogs barking. We’re glad to have you back, Cecile. And for my status report, I promise everyone was patrolling to the best of their abilities in your absence.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Cecile bowed and the feather in her helmet flopped in her face. “Sir Nash said I left the castle in good hands, and I am so glad I believed him!”

Nash sauntered over and flashed a charming smile. “Aw, Cecile, why would I lie to you?”

“Presumptuous of him to assume he knows what’s going on here when he’s not around,” Queen raised an eyebrow. 

“Hey now, I have my sources. And might I say, you look even _better_ than my sources said, Queen. Maybe once I get settled back in we can catch up, have a drink and—_hey, _what the—_not_ _the socks_—!”

Several welcome basket dogs circled at the Harmonian’s heels. It didn’t take a genius to know what they were aiming for. Cecile rushed over and tried shooing them away with little success.

Fred chuckled at Thomas’s side. “I suppose things really don’t change much.” 

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh along. It was hard to feel glum with all the commotion. 

“Master Thomas!” Cecile instantly ran over at the sound of his laughter, then whipped into a rigid salute. “I have returned to my post! I will begin patrol _ immediately_—!” 

“N-no, that’s fine. Please, take some time to settle in,” he nodded. Up close he could see smudges of dirt across her cheeks, and the sheen of her armor appeared a little duller than he recalled. Even Nash looked a little bedraggled. The trip across Mountain Path this time of year was most likely not easy. Seeing her looking worn down only worsened the feelings of guilt building in his stomach as he thought back to the stack of unread letters sitting on his desk.

“But we’re all together again, Master Thomas! I don’t need to settle. I _ am _ settled!”

The young castle master found himself smiling in the face of her boundless enthusiasm. How did he manage to go months without her? Now that she was back everything felt balanced again. “I’m sure Juan and the others are more than happy to patrol a little bit longer. You deserve a rest.”

“Whoa what?” Juan sputtered, “I didn’t sign up for that. I’m totally okay with getting back to my nap—_Koroku, _ don’t pee on _ my _ socks! Nash is over _ there_—!”

A cheerful giggle sounded from the appraisal shop doorway. Yun stepped into the sun and surveyed the courtyard with amusement. “Cecile! You’re back earlier than expected!”

_ Oh no, even Yun received letters? Was I the only one not reading their mail? _

The young garrison commander waved at her friend. “Sir Nash is a fast walker!”

Nash groaned and nudged the dogs away from his socks again. “Would’ve been faster with the _ mirror_…”

“We absolutely have to catch up,” Yun flitted across the courtyard and grasped her friend’s hands in hers. “I have so much to tell you! Of course, I imagine you need to give your report to Master Thomas first?” the shaman cast him a sideways glance. Thomas swallowed. Did she know about Landis stealing his mail?

“Ah, you’re right!” Cecile nodded and beamed a bright smile in the castle master’s direction. “Please let me know whenever you’re free, Master Thomas! I will give you a full report as soon as you aren’t busy!”

“I-I’m free now…”

“Are you sure?”

Thomas tugged at the collar of his shirt. Yun’s smile...even if she didn’t know about Landis stealing his mail, it didn’t matter. He felt thoroughly guilty by this point. “I have plenty to report too...why not come by after dinner and we’ll compare notes?”

“Absolutely!” Cecile’s face was pink and she nodded again. 

The crowd began to disperse until only Thomas stood by the stairs, watching Cecile chatter with Yun. The remaining dogs piled atop the staircase, lazy and satisfied after having their fill of attention and relieving themselves on Nash’s socks. Cecile waved one last time to her friend before running up the castle steps towards the manor. 

“You’re still here, Master Thomas?”

“Eh?” he blinked. Yun was watching him. “S-sorry, I was distracted.”

“Hm,” her smile was serene. “It’s nice having everyone return again, although I confess I was disappointed to hear Sir Nash hadn’t heard much from Lady Chris lately…”

“Er...yes, that is a shame,” he answered but didn’t really give any consideration to his words. His mind was already elsewhere. “I really ought to get back to work.”

“I see,” Yun bowed, then met his eyes. “When will you tell her?”

“Tell...tell who what?”

“Oh dear,” Yun sheepishly folded her hands together with an apologetic giggle. “Maybe you weren’t ready to announce it yet. It’s just Mamie and I couldn’t help but see you and Sir Kinnison after the Valentine’s Day dinner—”

Heat rose to his face. Kinnison’s goodbye kiss wasn’t exactly intended to be a secret, but Thomas was convinced no one was around to see. An uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment and shame churned in his stomach.

Yun continued, as if aware he was at a loss for a response. “It is lovely to see you happy, Master Thomas.”

_ Is this happiness? _

“A-ah...th...thank you…”

For a moment he considered asking the shaman if she could see what his future held with the archer. But doubt and anxiety held him back.

_ I don’t think I want to hear the answer. _


	19. Luca: Provocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an argument in the hallway leads to blood, and the Beast Rune stirs awake once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Striking a delicate balance between maintaining Luca's character while avoiding outright character assassination requires a pretty good reason as to why he's not committing reckless murder.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are based on a series of comment threads from March 9th, 2005.

“Do you honestly expect me to keep track of names? Tch. Waste of my time.”

“It’s not a waste, Luca,” Yun walked at his side down the castle hallway. Their shadows in the candlelight stretched across the tiled floor. When Yun requested an after-dinner stroll, he assumed it would be for something _ useful_, but instead she just wanted to talk. Again. And unfortunately, all her favorite topics to discuss were inconsequential and had nothing to do with what _ he _ wanted. 

Luca growled to himself in irritation. Winning Yun’s attention was almost _ too _ simple—women were so weak and easy to sway. All it took to secure her good graces was a display of affection, but now that he succeeded, actually getting _ answers _ out of her was beginning to feel tedious. He was starting to second-guess her abilities. If she truly had the power to see the future, it was completely squandered on someone so feeble and lacking direction.

“I was just speaking with Barts yesterday. He says he’s begun planting for the season! I’m so excited to meet all the new seedlings,” Yun continued, looping her arm through his as if they were already strolling across the Budehuc gardens and not aimlessly wandering down another barren hallway. “There are so many new arrivals lately. It’s quite exciting!”

He rolled his eyes. Why did this woman insist on dragging him everywhere? He had more important things to do than keep a running list of every stupid worm at the castle, but that didn’t stop her from sharing each name. “Whatever. It won’t matter when I cut them all down. Just another bunch of weaklings, nothing like myself or Yuber,” he chuckled to himself as they rounded the corner. “I guess with a leader like Thomas you can expect a bunch of other pitiful, squealing pigs to huddle together—” 

“Yes... well, I may not be physically strong, but I'm strong in other ways. And I'm letting you stay here, so that should count for something.”

_ Heh. Speak of the devil. _

The castle master stood opposite them in the hallway. A young woman hovered behind him, half-clad in armor. Despite Thomas’s surprisingly calm demeanor, his companion was less than composed and fidgeted impatiently in place. Luca frowned. Her face looked vaguely familiar. 

“Luca…” Yun touched his arm. He twisted away; whatever drivel the shaman was about to share with him wasn’t half as entertaining as putting Thomas in his place. Luca was determined to make sure the castle master’s surge of courage was short-lived. 

“Master Thomas has a strong spirit! There's more to strength than physical force!” the woman standing behind Thomas piped up and stabbed the heel of her spear against the floor with a resounding clank. 

“Heh, are people not afraid of me anymore? Seems like more and more of you maggots are growing overly confident around me. I might have to change this…” he narrowed his eyes and stared down at the duo. Just because Yun said no _ killing_...there were always other ways to have fun.

“Afraid of you?” the young woman shifted her posture so she stood as a small human shield in front of Thomas. “You should be grateful Master Thomas is gracious enough to let someone as argumentative as you to stay at Budehuc!”

Finally he realized why she looked so familiar. Amidst the flash of unfamiliar faces in Yun’s vision, hers was one. But then again, there were dozens of pigs lodging at the castle. He could’ve seen her at any time. It was going to take more than facial déjà-vu to convince him of Yun’s abilities. 

“He lets all _ sorts _ of people stay here,” the woman was still prattling on, “But that doesn’t give you the right to misbehave! You mustn’t question his authority—he’s the castle master, after all!”

He loomed over her and took immense delight in noticing their difference in size and power. What a pathetic fool. Did this woman think she was _ threatening _ him? 

“Do you know who I am?”

_ Clearly she doesn’t. The maggots at this castle grow dumber each passing day. _

“Ah,” she hesitated, her expression sheepish, “N...not really. I’ve been away for quite some time, so I must’ve missed your arrival. But that doesn't matter! If you have a problem with the way Master Thomas is running this castle, then you should talk to him about it, not blame it on his physical build!”

Thomas looked pale in her shadow. What a pathetic weakling. Not only was he standing back and letting a woman do all the talking for him, but even his protector was admitting outright he was physically inferior. 

“Then I'll warn you now - watch what you say and do around me, woman. If I have any serious problems with _ anyone _ in this castle, I'll deal with it _ my _ way. Discussing things only prolongs situations that can be solved in a matter of seconds with a blade.”

Yun suddenly flinched at his side as her eyes clouded over.

_ Another vision? _

Luca desperately wanted to shake the answers from the shaman. If she was seeing something, it was her responsibility to share. But the little nuisance standing in front of him was still talking. “I'll say whatever I want! _ You're _ the one with the attitude! My job is to protect the residents from threats like you in this castle, and I take it very seriously!”

“Very seriously, huh? You're just a woman, how much of a threat could _ you _be to me?”

“Luca,” Yun steadied herself and placed a hand on his arm again, “please calm down,” she paused and glanced between Luca and the young woman. An unusual expression flitted across her face. Apprehension? “It's not best to pick fights with everyone you meet. Cecile's a nice girl, one of my close friends here in the castle.”

“Yun. What did you see?”

The shaman broke eye contact. Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to share the details. “Please, I beg you, don't pick anymore fights... if you continue this one with Cecile, you'll regret it. I warn you.”

_ Regret? Is that what her vision showed her? How laughable. _

“Heh. The only one who will be feeling regret is this pathetic runt for believing she can challenge me! Is this woman really that important to you? I might spare her life... if she doesn't get in my way.”

“I have no intentions of getting in anyone’s way, so long as they leave Master Thomas alone!” Cecile loudly declared, “I...I think _ you _ are the one with a weak spirit, Luca!” 

“Me? The strength of one’s spirit makes no difference in battle. I make up for it with brute _ physical _ strength. And in this world, that’s all that matters!”

“It was Master Thomas’s strong spirit that saved Budehuc! Without him, this place would never have prospered! Most of us probably wouldn't even be here! Even _ you_!”

“You call this prospering?” he sneered and gestured to the narrow hallway. The candles along the walls flickered feebly in the dark. “Heh, ‘strong’ spirit. This just proves weaklings flock together. I bet you'd like to know what I _ really _used to do, wouldn't you…”

“It's none of my business what you spent your time doing. I think you're just jealous of Master Thomas’s success!”

“C...Cecile,” Thomas quietly touched her shoulder, “it’s okay. I'm strong enough to resolve conflicts without resorting to violence. Please don’t provoke him.”

The young woman’s face flushed pink at his touch. Even in the candlelight it didn’t escape Luca’s notice.

_ Heh. I see, so that’s how it is. _

“HAHAHAHAHA, resolving conflict? _ You_? Maggots like you are incapable of defending themselves!”

“Honestly, I think I am a stronger person because I fend for myself without having to use any physical strength,” Thomas swallowed and stared back. 

“If I was to come at you right now, what would you do to fend for yourself then?”

“_Luca_—” Yun clung closer to his arm. 

“Violence will not solve anything. Please do not sink down to the level of a barbarian, or I might be forced to treat you like one.”

In the blink of an eye Luca’s sword was drawn and flashed through the air. With one smooth motion, the blade grazed across flesh and fabric, barely skimming the surface. The force was enough to draw blood, but only just. Death was not the main objective. 

_ Cower in front of me. Acknowledge that I can strike you down whenever I want. _

_ I want to see the fear in your eyes. _

_ You are nothing compared to me. _

The castle master stumbled back in shock. The shoulder of his coat slowly stained red.

A familiar feeling rumbled awake within Luca for the first time since his resurrection, like a flame blossoming deep within his core. A burning sensation rippled outwards, prickling at his skin. The Beast Rune bristled at the scent of blood and whispered in his ear after months of silence.

_ What took you so long? _

“Ohmigosh… Master Thomas! You’re _ bleeding_!”

“I-I’m okay…” Thomas turned a faint shade of green. 

“No, you’re not! We have to get you to the infirmary!”

“HAHAHEHEHAHEHEHEHOOHOOHOHEHE! Even still you cower behind a woman! Your weakness is _ pitiful_! Where is your ‘conflict resolution’ now, pig!?”

“_Enough._”

A new voice called out from the end of the hallway. Light footsteps approached as a small girl stepped between them. In one hand was a wand, in the other she held a candle.

“A child?” Luca scoffed. “As if the protection of a woman wasn’t enough, you’re hiding behind _ children_?”

The small girl narrowed her eyes and raised her wand. “This provocation has gone on long enough. It is late. I am trying to sleep.”

“Viki, please don’t—”

“Yun. Your unrealistic presence here is already bothersome as it is. But this _ eyesore_—” the child gestured to Luca, “—is beyond trying my patience. Now that blood has been drawn, I have no choice but to intervene before things escalate.”

“Eyesore?! Big words for a small child. I have no reservations about striking down children!”

“Hmph,” she pointed her wand in front of her, “_Ready_.”

There was a blinking flash, then the rushing sensation of cold, hard stone shot up and met his face with a crunch. Pain blossomed in front of his eyes.

_ What… _

Luca groaned and dragged himself to his feet, then quickly motioned for his sword. His hands and scabbard were empty.

_ Where the hell am I now? _

A single torch affixed to a stone wall flickered from a distance. Luca took a few steps forward, then collided with iron. His hands fumbled in the dark. Stone floor, iron bars…

_ That bitch teleported you straight into a jail cell_.

The voice of his rune hummed in amusement. 

“Heh…” his shoulders shook with laughter. “You maggots...you think this jail cell will keep me?! You have no idea who you’re dealing with!”

Luca reached out and motioned to grab at the bars, then froze as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He staggered backwards from the bars and cursed under his breath. Yun’s voice echoed in his memory as he recalled her words from before.

_ “I see...possibilities, potential outcomes, futures that may or may not happen. I can’t look backwards, only forwards.” _

All along there was still a part of him that doubted the shaman’s abilities, even after she shared her visions with him. Yet now he could no longer ignore it. Their authenticity was undeniable as he stood in the very same jail cell her visions showed him months earlier.


	20. Thomas: Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas reflects on his altercation with Luca Blight, Cecile panics about the entire ordeal, and Kinnison imparts another warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas's heart is in the right place, even if his ideas about Luca Blight staying at Budehuc aren't the most logically sound. But I wouldn't have a story if he didn't keep living in the castle, after all.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from March 10th, 2005.

“Master Thomas, how many fingers am I holding up!?”

A single candle sat atop the nearby infirmary desk, illuminating Cecile’s panicked face with a contrastingly cheerful glow. Thomas sighed and gingerly removed his jacket, taking care not to irritate his new wound. “Cecile, I’m okay. It just stings a little, that’s all.”

She immediately reached over and took his coat, her mouth set in a grim frown at the sight of blood and the torn shoulder seam. “I just can’t believe it! How could anyone think that’s an appropriate way to behave!? I mean… I probably shouldn’t have _ yelled, _ but—”

“C-Cecile… please don’t blame yourself. All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.”

“Worse?!” Cecile’s voice rose to almost a frantic squeak as her hands flew to her mouth. “I...I don’t even want to imagine that! I’m going to fetch Sir Tuta, but… I don’t like the thought of leaving you alone. Are you _ sure _ you’ll be okay? You won’t pass out!?”

“I promise, I won’t pass out.”

“You’re not lightheaded? Dizzy? Nauseous!?”

Despite being uninjured herself, Cecile’s expression was far more peakish than his own. Thomas sighed again and offered a weak smile as he rolled his shoulder in hopes that it would put her nerves at ease. “See? I’ll be okay.”

Her stare was intense. He felt himself growing flustered under her close scrutiny. Cecile’s eyes darted back over to his torn coat, then she sighed. “All right… I believe you, Master Thomas! Please wait _ right there_, I’ll be back in a jiffy!” She saluted and sprinted out of the room. 

_ What an evening… _

His shoulders slumped. Thomas carefully ran his fingers across his new injury. Although the young castle master wasn’t a warrior by any means, after enough training sessions with Juan, even Thomas knew the strike wasn’t meant to be fatal. 

_ Which means...this was a warning. _

It didn’t take a strategic genius to decipher the meaning behind such a warning. It was meant to intimidate and make a statement. Whatever the Highlander’s reasons for staying at Budehuc were, Thomas was already questioning his decision to welcome Luca Blight to Budehuc. Although they housed questionable individuals during the war, this was a new breed of “questionable.” And this time around they didn’t have a collection of True Rune bearers at their disposal in case someone needed to be restrained. Thomas had heard rumors that Geddoe was staying on the castle grounds somewhere, but he had yet to see the mercenary with his own eyes and assumed he had his own agenda. 

_ Besides, I can’t always rely on others to keep things under control... _

Rowdy residents weren’t unusual. Drunken bar fights, disorderly conduct, petty theft, and property vandalism were all challenges he learned to tackle over the past six years as castle master. It wouldn’t be the first time a resident was less than respectful, but it _ was _ the first time in recent memory someone actually lashed out against him. Although Thomas wasn’t entirely pleased that the younger Viki took matters into her own hands and teleported the troublemaker off to Budehuc’s jail, he couldn’t help but feel relieved _ he _ didn’t have to directly handle disciplining Luca. 

The infirmary door quietly clicked open, shaking Thomas from his thoughts. 

“Ah, Cecile—”

“Thomas!” Kinnison rushed in, his voice high with alarm. “Are you okay?”

Thomas swallowed nervously and was unable to stop himself from stuttering. “I-I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch.”

Kinnison exhaled in relief. “I just passed Cecile in the halls. She made it sound like you lost your arm!”

“My…? Oh no, I promise, I still have it,” Thomas lifted both arms to reassure Kinnison, then winced. “It’s just a bit sore, that’s all. Some bandage is all I need to patch it up.”

“I knew it...I knew this was bad news. If I had _ been _ there…”

“Kinnison, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is!” the archer frowned and grabbed Thomas by the hand. A fresh surge of embarrassment colored the castle master’s face. Despite Kinnison’s serious expression, all Thomas could think about was their brief time together during Yun’s Valetine’s Day dinner. “You don’t know Luca, but _ I _ do,” Kinnison continued, his voice rising with passion, “I was _ there _ during the Dunan Unification War. You don’t know what kinds of things I’ve seen,” his expression darkened. “The kinds of atrocities he committed...it wasn’t _ human_.”

“K...Kinnison…”

“He’s supposed to be _ dead_, Thomas! He _ died_! It took a fleet of archers along with eighteen of our most elite fighters to kill him! And I... I just stood by and let him walk right through the castle gates and into your home...”

Thomas felt his new injury tingle uncomfortably. “Kinnison...if...if he’s as dangerous as you say, there’s nothing I could have done when he arrived in the first place to stop him. I don’t _ have _ eighteen elite fighters at my disposal. There are no battalions of archers at Budehuc. Even during our own war we barely managed to scrape by.”

“I...I know,” Kinnison deflated and sat opposite Thomas in the infirmary’s guest chair, still holding the castle master’s hand. “And while he hasn’t _ killed _ anyone yet, how long is that going to last? Who’s going to stop him this time? _ Can _ he be stopped? And why is he even here in the first place? _ How _ is he even here? What are we going to do?”

The onslaught of questions was dizzying. Thomas didn’t want to admit that he still hadn’t found the time to make a visit to the library and study up on the war Kinnison was mentioning. It was hard to accept there was someone truly dangerous living amongst them. After several years of peacetime, Thomas didn’t want to acknowledge that maybe those quiet days were coming to an end, and it was even harder to admit that it could be attributed to a single resident. Outlandish, even. After all, plenty of difficult residents had taken up lodging at Budehuc in the past. 

_ Then again, those troublemakers weren’t formerly dead warriors from the past... _

“Well,” Thomas drew in a breath, “we have people here from all over. Grassland, Zexen… people who had a history of fighting wars against each other in the past, but eventually put aside their differences and became friends. We all came together to make it work. Who’s to say we can’t make this work too? Maybe some time alone in jail will help him cool his head.”

“Thomas, he _ hurt _ you!”

“T-then...I’ll just have to be stronger. This is my home—_our _home. If he wants to stay here, he’s going to have to learn to love it just like we do, or leave. I would be letting down Cecile and the others if I didn’t at least try. There were so many others we could have turned away during the war, but we welcomed them in.”

Kinnison quietly brushed his thumb across the top of Thomas’s hand. The gesture set his nerves on edge again. “You… you might not be a fighter, but you have so much in common with him. I can see why people follow you.”

“I...er…who…?”

The archer offered a warm smile. “The last leader I followed… there’s something about you that reminds me of him. I want to believe in you. Even if this whole thing sounds ridiculous, somehow it doesn’t _ feel _ ridiculous when I hear you talk about it. Every time you speak about Budehuc, it’s like… I just know you’ll figure out the right thing to do.”

_ Am I really though? Do I really know the right thing to do? _

Suddenly the infirmary door flew open. Cecile stood at the threshold waving a roll of gauze, Tuta hovering quietly behind her. “Master Thomas! I brought Sir Tuta! And spare bandages! Are you still okay?! I was—” she immediately flustered as her eyes landed on Thomas’s hand in Kinnison’s. “O-oh..._ oh_, I’m sorry, I...ah…”

“C-Cecile,” he swallowed back another swell of anxiety. “T...thank you, that’s fine.”

“It’s no problem at all! I...I have to get back to my patrol and check on Miss Yun! I’m so sorry!” Cecile offered a hasty salute and smacked the roll of gauze against the visor of her helmet before handing it off to Tuta. The doctor awkwardly stood off to the side, glancing between the three of them. 

Kinnison quietly retracted his hand. Before Thomas could interject, Cecile was already scrambling down the hallway with loud, clattering footsteps. For reasons he couldn’t identify, seeing her reaction felt even more embarrassing than Kinnison’s affectionate gesture.


	21. Cecile: Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecile has a heart-to-heart with Koroku and reaches a very, very bad decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter long, long ago. Koroku, please talk some sense into her.

It had scarcely been a day since Cecile returned to Budehuc, but she was already positively certain that the newest resident was undeniably her _ least _ favorite person of all time.

Granted that list of “least favorite residents” wasn’t very long. Jefferson’s obnoxious name-calling, Branky’s foul mouth, and of course now that Yuber was allegedly back and lurking around the lower sublevel somewhere...

Koroku nuzzled at her ankles as she sat on the front steps of the manor. He was trying to be helpful, but it would take more than a welcome cuddle to help. "Oh Koroku," she sighed and picked the squirming dog up in her arms, “What a mess I’ve made.”

“Aroo…”

Cecile bowed her head, the feather in her helmet drooping. "I know, you’re right. I probably was a little too rash and shouldn’t have shouted like that, but... It was awful! Sir Nash was _ right_, I knew I should’ve hurried back sooner!" 

She pulled her knees in closer and Koroku whimpered. It was barely mid-March, and the air still had a nipping chill, even with the afternoon sun high in the sky. She placed Koroku in her lap and turned to look at her shield and spear leaning against the stone wall, reflecting on her position as garrison commander. Keeping the castle safe was her _ duty_. How could things come to this? Nash’s confused expression when she offhandedly mentioned Yun was nothing compared to the panic in his voice upon hearing about Yun’s new _ relationship. _ Why hadn’t she paid closer attention?

_ I was so distracted thinking about returning home… _

That wasn’t entirely true, and her face felt hot with shame just thinking about it. Of course she was focused on returning home. But she was even more focused on _ Thomas_. The castle master only sent two letters the entire winter, and she was bursting with curiosity to see how he was doing in her absence. _ Surely _ he must’ve been exceptionally busy, and that was why he barely wrote...right?

"It's just... when someone threatens Master Thomas...well, I can't help myself," Cecile added quietly and bit her lip. “But I probably just made things worse by getting angry and shouting.”

The memory of yesterday's altercation came rushing back, replaying in her mind on a continuous loop. Watching Thomas stand his ground against the belligerent resident initially filled her with a sense of pride. How brave of him! But when things took a turn for the worse... Never did she imagine someone would actually strike out. What was she supposed to do? Of _ course _she was going to step in and try to put a stop to things!

Koroku stretched atop her lap, pressing his paws against the fabric of her skirt before settling into a comfortable position. She scrunched the fur between his ears with a frown. "I wish Little Viki didn’t teleport him off to jail,” Cecile sighed. “Sending people to jail should be _ my _ job as garrison commander! It’s my _ responsibility_.”

It had been a long while since the Budehuc jails actually housed a proper prisoner. Cecile searched her memory but came up short. A few times during the war she recalled ushering Wan Fu into a vacant cell to sleep off a bad hangover after discovering him passed out in the storeroom, but that would hardly count as imprisonment. Then there was the plucky boy detective, but he was more than eager to set up shop in a damaged cell. So the _ last _ time they had someone in prison…

_ I really can’t remember. Have we ever? Maybe when my father was the acting captain of the guard? _

Koroku wagged his tail. Why did he look so _ happy _ about the whole thing? 

Cecile sighed again. “This is what I get for taking that trip to Caleria over the winter and getting snowed in. If only I had come back sooner. I could've stopped such a brute from ever coming here in the first place! I’d have turned him away at the castle gates and told him to go somewhere else!" 

_ All this time...I thought I was training to defend us if Yuber decided to stir up trouble. But in my absence, someone even worse slipped by! _

"And... I'm... I didn't know... while I was gone..." Cecile scratched the dog’s ears as her mind wandered. Not only did she allow someone terrible to take up lodging while she was gone, but it wasn’t the only development she missed. 

The sight of Thomas’s hand in Kinnison’s was difficult to forget. Obviously something deeper transpired between the two in her absence. Something significant enough to entail _ hand-holding_. 

“I'm being foolish. It's only natural Master Thomas found someone who makes him happy,” she murmured, more to herself than to her canine companion. Koroku twitched his ear as if to feign ignorance. Silly dog, he probably knew even more than she did; he was always trotting around the castle and seeing what others were up to. 

“I suppose I'm just being silly, right? I want Master Thomas to be safe _ and _ happy, and…”

An unwelcome sensation wriggled in her stomach. 

“I... I'm just jealous that I wasn't here to help protect him too! That's all!” Cecile abruptly rose to her feet and sent Koroku tumbling back to the ground. 

“Arooo…”

“No no, you're right, I'm being selfish. Here I am fretting over silly things, while Master Thomas is recovering! At least Luca is in jail until he learns to behave…”

Koroku sniffed at the dirt. He was such a good listener.

“When Miss Yun mentioned dating someone named Luca… I never thought he’d be… well, I didn’t think he’d be like _ that_, Koroku!”

Koroku did not seem the slightest bit fazed by her uneasiness and resumed scratching behind his ears. 

Although the news of her friend’s new relationship came as a shock to Cecile, she figured this was just one more piece of information Koroku was already privy to. When Yun made mention in her last written letter about her newest relationship, Cecile never imagined it would be with someone so… _ scary. _

_ A violent new resident, Miss Yun’s new relationship, and… Master Thomas’s connection with Sir Kinnison… just how much did I miss while I was gone? _

Keeping tabs on the relationships of castle residents wasn’t exactly part of the garrison commander’s duties. Yet if one relationship impacted the safety of everyone, and another involved the well-being of the castle master… well, _ those _ details _ were _ relevant information that a proper guard captain would want to know in order to do their job. And the only course of action remaining was to do the absolute _ best _ job possible to make up for her absence. A job that would ensure Thomas continued being happy, the castle residents continued being safe, and Yun…

“Miss Yun…” Cecile groaned and buried her face back into her hands. “Koroku, why would Miss Yun decide to date someone so _ horrible_?!”

“Arooo…”

“I know, I know… she _ is _ really, really nice.”

“Arooooooooooo…”

“Koroku! How horrible! Miss Yun wouldn’t just date someone because they’re _ tall_.”

“...Arooooo…”

“Well, of course she’s kind! So… so obviously she must see _ something _ in him.”

Koroku yawned.

“You’re right, I should make myself busy and check in on the prisoner!”

“Aroo...?”

“Don't you give me that look, mister!" Cecile reached back down and ruffled his fur. “After all, I’m the captain of the guard! This is just part of my duties! Miss Yun _ must _ see there’s something good about him, otherwise why would she make such a decision?”

_ That’s right… Miss Yun is a shaman. If anyone knows things, it would be her. So there really, truly must be a reason! _

The gears in her head turned as she tried to make sense of the logic behind her friend’s incomprehensible choice. Yun wasn’t the type of person to make impulsive decisions. Meaning her reasoning must be grounded in something. Something she knew, or could see… or _ sense_. Maybe it had something to do with the spirits? 

Cecile frowned as she dwelled on the possibility. Spiritual matters weren’t typically something she was very good at sorting out. She usually relied on gut instinct when it came to such matters. Her father was never a religious man, so neither the Grassland spirituality nor the teachings of the Goddess were part of her childhood. The young guard couldn’t fathom what kind of life advice the spirits would impart, but she assumed it was obviously helpful. She sighed and ran her hand along Koroku’s back. “I just can’t figure it out. This would be so much easier if we were _ all _ friends…”

_ Friends. _

Finally something clicked. 

“That’s true… The best way to bring people together is to become friends,” she mused. “After all, that’s how we won the war. We all banded together and put aside our differences. We never would’ve won the war if we weren’t friends! Right, Koroku?”

“Arooo…”

“That’s _ exactly _ what I mean! If Miss Yun believes there's a good reason...then...then I'll _ make _ him my friend! That'll show _ him_—!” 

For the first time since the scuffle in the hallway, Cecile felt encouraged again. This was _ just _the right remedy for the problem! With renewed vigor she scooped up her shield and spear. Making friends usually came easy to her, so naturally this was the best solution. 

But not only that...having a distraction from the other unsettling thoughts and unwelcome feelings involving Thomas and Kinnison was a comfort. It wasn’t proper for the captain of the guard to let such things cloud their judgment. It wasn’t proper for the captain of the guard to think about _ those _ sorts of things… especially when they involved the master of the castle. 

She was determined to turn this Luca fellow from brute to buddy. After all, how difficult could it be? Maintaining the peace was her most important duty, and more importantly...

_ If I can make him my friend… _

_ Master Thomas will never get hurt again. _


	22. Nash: Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nash seeks an audience with Yun and learns a little more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nash is a reasonable adult and has solid life advice. But when you've been around and seen the things he's seen...

An otherworldly glow blanketed the Budehuc cemetery. Even after half a decade, very little had changed, and Nash was grateful to see that there didn’t appear to be any new headstones added in his absence. He cast an appraising look across the burial grounds, his footsteps quietly treading over years of flattened soil with the sort of light-footed covertness that only a seasoned Harmonian spy could boast. There was an objective behind his visit, but he wasn’t wholly certain how to approach it. 

“Sir Nash?”

_ Oh. Well, so much for stealth. _

The Alma Kinan shaman was crouched in front of a headstone, the luminous lights of the cemetery drifting around her with a slow, carefree air. The intricate patterns woven across her dark green dress seemed to shimmer in the light. Nash noted she hadn’t even turned her head in his direction yet and chuckled. “I guess there’s no hiding from you, Yun. Have I gotten that sloppy in my old age?”

The young woman rose and turned to face him, offering a polite bow. “Not in the least. I have an unfair advantage, after all. Even the best of spies can’t be expected to hide their aura.”

Nash quirked an eyebrow. Was the ability to sense auras another trait of the Alma Kinan? The shamanic tribe continued to be full of surprises. “True. I can’t say I’ve mastered that skill just yet. But I’ve still got plenty of years left in me, so maybe I’ll surprise you one of these days.”

Yun smiled. “I look forward to it.” 

“Are you paying your respects?”

She glanced back at the untidy row of headstones. “You could say something like that. What about you, Sir Nash?”

“No one I know is buried here,” he shrugged, then casually leaned against the stone wall. “I’m far more interested in the business of the living. Which now includes _ you_, coincidentally.”

She offered another serene smile. Something about it had Nash suspecting she was already aware of his motives. “We didn’t get a chance to properly catch up,” he added. “Although I will confess, I heard an awful lot about you from Cecile on our trek back from Caleria.”

“Did you?”

“Heh. Did I ever. The girl certainly loves to talk. And boy, did she _ talk_.”

“She has been a wonderful friend to me,” Yun answered fondly, “one of the closest I’ve made since arriving here. But you didn’t come to speak with me about Cecile, did you?”

“You’re partly correct,” he said. “But I was hoping you’d indulge an old man in some small talk. It’s not often I get to converse with someone I thought I’d never see again.”

“‘Old man’? I don’t think you’re quite there just yet,” she giggled, then gestured to herself with an apologetic smile. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you came to me with questions. Questions, I imagine, you weren’t planning on asking in the courtyard when you first returned. Unfortunately, I have the same questions as you.”

“So...you don’t know why you’ve returned either, I take it.”

“Not one bit. The spirits… they haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information, no matter how much I ask.”

“And your sisters? Have you made contact with your family yet?”

“Not yet,” she replied. Something akin to guilt flickered across her face, her dark brown eyes darting away. “I… I’m not really sure how they’d react, to be entirely honest. And the village is so far away from Budehuc.”

That answer was a surprise. Nash paused, his previous train of thought derailed. “Really? You haven’t told anyone from home?”

“N-no.”

“Is coming back like this typical for… sacrifices? For the Alma Kinan?” 

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

_ That complicates things even more. _

“Hm,” Nash lowered his head in thought. The entire time spent traveling back to Budehuc, he naturally assumed she would be able to explain the phenomenon herself. After all, the last time he laid eyes on her was during the sacred soul-sending ritual. “Well, you’ll be relieved to hear that your vision of the future never came to pass. We managed to take care of things and prevent the destruction you saw. But you’ve probably already figured that out, given that we’re standing here.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told. And...I’m so glad,” she laced her fingers together, “because the more time I spend here, the more I become acquainted with the world away from my village… this is the sort of world that was worth saving. I would sacrifice myself all over again to save it a second time if needed.”

“Hey now, let’s not get hasty. No need to run off and do anything reckless.” Nash ran a hand through his wavy hair with a chuckle. “Although… speaking of reckless, we need to _ talk._”

“Oh?”

_ Sheesh. How am I going to broach this subject? _

Cecile’s good-natured chatter the entire trip back was peppered with all sorts of interesting tidbits. In a way, she was the best source of information the spy could’ve asked for. The young guard had no reservations in sharing her thoughts on _ everything_, from recent ongoings to new arrivals. But it was difficult to tell where opinions and embellishments ended and the truth began, and there were several sticky details she mentioned that did not sit well with Nash one bit. 

_ I’m not proud to admit it, but part of me was hoping she was wrong about Yun returning. Now that it’s true… unfortunately that brings into question the other news I was hoping was false. _

“You’ve been making all kinds of friends, I hear. Not just Cecile?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I wonder if perhaps that’s why the spirits guided me to Budehuc in the first place. I’ve decided to treat this like a new chance at life.”

“Aptly put. A new life… must be full of interesting, new people, I take it?”

“Sir Nash…” Yun giggled again. “You are being awfully indirect. Why don’t you just come out with it? This isn’t about my resurrection again, is it?”

“You might be older now, but as far as I’m concerned, these past five years weren’t spent growing into adulthood like most people. I mean no disrespect,” he held up his hands defensively, “but I’ve been around, and I know more than you think. And I’m going to be upfront with you. The world is not a kind place. Not every person you meet will have your best interests at heart.”

The young woman tilted her head to the side and frowned. Her cheerful mirth from moments earlier shifted to confusion. “I’m sorry, Sir Nash. I don’t really understand what you’re getting at.”

_ Ugh. I’m going to have to come right out with it, aren’t I? _

“Yun,” Nash folded his arms, his tone all business, “what’s all this I’ve been hearing about Luca? Not Luca _ Blight_, right?”

“Oh!” she clasped her hands together in excitement, “You’re acquainted? How wonderful!”

_ Dammit. So that detail was true, too. _

“A...acquainted? You could say something like that—”

“You can’t begin to imagine how excited I was to discover someone else here was just like me!”

“Just… wait, _ what_? There is _ no _ similarity between the two of you, I _ guarantee _it!”

“Oh, but you’re wrong, Sir Nash. He’s just like me! We both _ died_.”

“Yun,” Nash placed his hands on both her shoulders and struggled to maintain a firm tone, “that is where your similarities begin _ and _ end. The other day… Cecile said you two are… _ involved_. Is this true?!”

A faint tint of pink rose to her cheeks as she looked back at him wordlessly. Normally the sight of a blushing young maiden was one Nash found quite pleasing. But the implications this time had nothing to do with his own wit, charm, or dashingly good looks. The growing sensation of dread and bewilderment in his stomach increased tenfold. Even though his own encounter with the Highland prince was over 20 years prior, it left an unmistakable impression on him. Luca Blight had an imposing, unforgettable presence. Nash sensed goosebumps along his skin as he recalled his time infiltrating the Highland encampment, seeing the prince himself up close...

“You need to listen to me,” Nash urged, “_Nothing _ good will come from you getting tangled up with someone like him, regardless if he’s locked up in the Budehuc jail or not. His death and yours have nothing in common. The man started a war, murdered thousands of people, and was renowned for his unmatched cruelty. Does that sound like the sort of person you want to involve yourself with?!”

“I saw him. In a vision.”

“You… _ what_?”

That was news. Nash swallowed, his mind racing as it tried to fill in the gaps. Yun’s lifelong vision of the destruction of the True Runes was apocalyptic. Her sacrifice was what allowed them to prevent that very disaster from ever occurring. He could only imagine what sort of ominous future the shaman saw involving the formerly dead Highland prince. Was she choosing to entangle herself with Luca in efforts to prevent another foretold disaster?

“Well, _ visions_, specifically,” she frowned. “They come in fragments. It’s as though the spirits are showing me possible futures, and I can’t tell which is likely to happen. Everything is too uncertain. But I shared one with him, and he’s been very curious ever since.”

“Shared? You can do that?”

She nodded. Nash added another mental note on his growing list of Alma Kinan powers. “And… what did you see? What did you share?”

“Just bits and pieces. Nothing really definitive. But I’ve seen more, and...” she hesitated.

“And?”

“As you know, the future I saw involving the end of the world never came to pass. These too most likely will not happen either. Like I said… it’s difficult to tell. With someone so volatile, possibilities change by the moment.”

“I...see,” he sighed and removed his hands from her shoulders. It was no surprise Luca Blight was curious. Just a glimpse of a possible future would be enough to make most people eager to see more. “So then, Cecile must’ve misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?”

“Heh,” he chuckled. “She said you were _ dating_. Of all the silly ideas, I don’t know where she came up with _ that _ one.”

Yun blushed again. “Well, I think he asked me, so… yes, I believe that means we are.”

_ Wait. _

“_Yun_—” his hands were immediately back on her shoulders, and he blanched. “N-no! What are you talking about!?”

“I’m talking about my own decision,” she frowned again, “Sir Nash, didn’t I just tell you this is my second life?”

“Yes! Which means you shouldn’t be foolish and throw it away chasing after something that’s only going to wind up getting you _ killed_—!”

The air surrounding them in the cemetery slowly grew colder. Nash felt a fresh round of goosebumps prickling up the back of his neck as Yun stared at him with increasing disappointment. “You really don’t understand, do you? Do you have any idea what it’s like? Living your whole life where everything has already been planned out for you from the start?”

“I—”

“My entire _ first _ life was about following my fate. As the strongest shaman in the clan, I knew from the start I was destined to die to carry out a specific purpose. I _ knew _ I was going to die. I accepted that, I have no regrets,” Yun said, her voice rising with fervor. “But now I’m alive again, and there’s _ nothing _ planned for me. I want my expectations for my new life to bring happiness, not create burdens. Not just for others, but for _ myself_,” she swallowed, staring back into his eyes with firm resolve. Nash couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to convince herself more than him. “Maybe...maybe I don’t _ want _ to blindly listen to what the spirits tell me. Maybe I want to make my _ own _ decisions. I don’t know what fate holds in store for me this time, and perhaps...I’m supposed to decide on my own.”

_ So that’s what’s going on. Shaman or not, I guess all young people go through this at one point or another. _

“Heh. I know what this is.”

“You do?”

“You may be a young woman now,” Nash chastised, “but I know exactly what this is. This is your _ rebellion_, isn’t it? Well take it from your old Uncle Nash—you might think you have a handle on the situation, but you’re making a mistake. You can’t _ save _ him. You can’t _ fix _ him. Just because you saw him in your vision doesn’t mean you owe him anything.”

Her brows knit together in another frown. Whatever ethereal air surrounding the shaman earlier gave way to stubborn frustration that was wholly human. Not just human, Nash mused, _ young adult _human. “I’ll be doing what I want with my life from now on, Sir Nash. I will decide what’s right for me and what is not.”

“I promise you. This is not right. This isn’t even _ normal_. Whatever you saw… it must’ve been one hell of a vision, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I believe every human has the capacity for good. We both returned from the dead… surely there’s a reason behind his resurrection, just like my own.”

“Fine then,” the Harmonian sighed, releasing her shoulders a second time. “I can see there’s no convincing you. But at the very least, can you promise me one thing?”

“And that would be…?”

“Don’t do anything _ I _ wouldn’t do.”


	23. Clive: Investment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clive tries to the best of his ability to dissuade Cecile from making a terrible mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard not to form an emotional attachment to someone when they start likening you to their deceased parent.
> 
> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post made March 19th, 2005.

The dog sprawled across his lap with reckless abandon and wriggled, as if wordlessly encouraging a belly rub. Clive sighed and obliged. He leaned back against the grassy hill and looked across the lake, drinking in the first sunny spring afternoon of the season.

The respite was a welcome change of pace—after all, most members of the Howling Voice Guild were beholden to their missions and had little time to spare for leisure. How easy it was to forget that life when sitting in the warm sun on the banks of a lake far, far away from Harmonia. At least Viki was gracious enough to sneeze him at the tail end of his mission at the closure of the Dunan Unification War, so the only remaining task was probably attending some sort of celebratory banquet anyways… and those sorts of events never suited him. He chuckled to himself and gave the dog another pat.

"Sir Clive? What are you doing all the way down here?"

He tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow. A young woman stood at the top of the grassy lakeshore carrying a small cloth bundle. Her fair hair fluttered in the breeze, tied back with an orange ribbon. Something about her petite build and checkered skirt were familiar...

"Sir Clive?"

_Wait, is that…_

"Ah!" she hastily bowed, and his suspicions were confirmed. Only one woman at the castle was prone to excessive displays of polite reverence, and he definitely didn't consider himself important enough to be bowed at. "I'm sorry!" she flustered, "I left my armor with Peggi and Dominic! After returning from Caleria, my spear needed sharpening, and my armor needed a good polishing...they were so kind to offer!" Cecile swung her arm out in a frantic gesture, as if attempting to showcase her aforementioned gear before realizing they were no longer on her person. "I didn't mean to catch you off-guard! I was just on my way to reclaim them."

Clive quirked an eyebrow. He wasn't about to admit he didn't recognize her at first without her armor. "I'm fine."

She quickly recovered and tilted her head, her gaze drifting down to the dog lounging in his lap. "Koichi looks so relaxed! You're really great with the dogs, Sir Clive."

"I try."

"How have you been? I'm sorry I didn't come by to say hello sooner! It's been so busy since I returned! What have you been up to?" Cecile sat next to him on the grass uninvited and smoothed out her skirt with a cheery smile.

"Just doing what I do best," the marksman shrugged and looked back out at the lake. It wasn't necessary for her to know what he was _really_ up to—namely monitoring and observing the comings and goings of residents when it suited him… and sniping small woodland creatures beyond the castle perimeter. It would do Storm no good to fall out of use, after all. But it was possible the small-animal-sniping might be upsetting to her. Best to let her fill in the blanks with her own imagination.

"What you do best?" she paused and looked back at Koichi. "Like right now?"

"Heh."

_What I do best…_

The months since Cecile left to train in Caleria were mostly spent gathering intel and piecing together as much as he could about the present and his surroundings. Surprisingly, twenty years into the future weren't as strange as he feared. Some of his sources were still around, but he wasn't ready to establish direct contact. Trying to explain why he hadn't aged in twenty years was an uncomfortable conversation Clive wasn't quite prepared to have yet.

Then there was his own agenda. Was _she_ still alive? Clive didn't like to entertain fanciful notions of destiny, but as he found himself with ample amounts of free time to sit by the lake and reflect, suddenly the idea of fate didn't seem so far-fetched. All those years spent searching for _her_ were unsuccessful, and now he found himself in the future. Was it for a reason? Was _she_ here in this future as well? Or was he just the hapless victim of Viki's sneezing?

"Oh! I have something for you!" Cecile set aside the bundle and scavenged in her skirt pockets before procuring a small orange kerchief. "It's a cleaning cloth! They had all kinds of fun patterns in Caleria. I thought maybe you could use it when cleaning your gun!"

"Thanks," he accepted her gift. A bold, geometric pattern of interlocking diamonds adorned the edge. The stitching was nice. Too nice for cleaning the barrel of Storm. He gently folded it back up and tucked it in his cloak.

"They have all sorts of interesting items at the Calerian market! I left behind a new writing quill for Master Thomas, but I'm not sure if he noticed it," she sighed, her cheeks growing pink.

Clive's ears pricked at Thomas's name. Judging by the rosy hue spreading across the Cecile's face, she still carried a torch for him. During her absence, Clive couldn't help but observe that the castle master was noticeably distracted. Actually, that wasn't entirely true—the gunner intentionally went out of his way to keep an eye on Thomas, and he was less than impressed by the recent developments with his former comrade. He and Kinnison served together during the Dunan Unification War, and Clive regarded the archer as a reliable warrior and good-hearted individual, but...

There was something about Thomas that undeniably reminded Clive of Riou, the leader of their _own_ army twenty years ago. Although the young castle master was considerably more timid and soft-spoken compared to Riou, there was just _something_ about his quiet magnetism that made it easy to want to follow him. Perhaps Kinnison felt himself drawn to that, and he sought out that familiarity as a comfort after being whisked away to the future courtesy of Viki's sneeze. Even Clive himself couldn't deny there was something about Thomas that felt nostalgic.

But regardless of how similar Thomas was to Riou, the castle master's downright _obliviousness_ to Cecile's feelings was infuriating. Was he honestly that ignorant? It didn't seem intentional, but...

_Depending on how Cecile still feels about Thomas, I'm preparing a bullet with his name on it._

Clive worried about Cecile's happiness. Of course he wasn't _actually_ going to threaten Thomas with Storm. Obviously she'd be very upset, and he didn't want that. But… the entire affair left him feeling disgruntled for some reason, and he felt compelled to keep a close watch.

"I hope…" She fiddled with the cloth bundle in her lap. "Well, he's been awfully busy lately..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Busy? He's got plenty of time. Why? Has he been avoiding you?"

"Oh no! Of course not!" Cecile sat upright, her face still pink. "I just...I hoped to hear a little more from him while I was gone. He only wrote twice," she murmured and played with the lace fringe of her skirt before quickly bouncing back, any trace of shyness long gone. "But there's lots going on, so of course he is busy! The spring festival is coming! Miss Yun says she's on the planning committee this year. Will you be attending?"

"Depends," he shrugged again. "Are you?"

"I'm planning on hosting the dog races this year!" Cecile lowered her voice as if telling a juicy secret, "I promise not to tell Koichi if you choose to bet on someone else. My potch is on Kogoro."

"I appreciate your discretion," he chuckled. "I'll think about it."

A quiet breeze drifted across the lake. He enjoyed her company. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to develop ties to one place, but he felt oddly responsible for Cecile's well-being after hearing her observation about his appearance when they traveled to Vinay del Zexay. It was an unintentional emotional investment on his part.

_I look like her father, huh…_

Was the late garrison commander from Harmonia? The emblem across her shield—a proud pair of stags, their antlers on full display— was decidedly Zexen. But Vinay del Zexay was a relatively young city. And with no surviving family, it was unsurprising she was drawn to anything that might hold a clue. It was hard not to empathize, especially when reflecting on his own past and lack of family ties. The Guild was his family, and for the brief time he served in the Dunan Unification War, his allies were family as well. It was more than enough for him.

Clive's gaze drifted over to the cloth bundle resting in her lap. "Is _that_ for Thomas too?"

Cecile shook her head. There was a fire burning in her eyes. "Absolutely not! _This_, Sir Clive, is my _olive branch_!"

"Meaning…?"

"I made a sandwich," she nodded, as if that answer alone explained everything.

"Well, don't let me stop you. Feel free to eat," he stretched out as Koichi rolled over in his sleep.

"No no, it's not meant for _me_! Although, I suppose I could make myself one too. In fact, that's a lovely idea, we could even eat them together… it can be a whole picnic! But _this _sandwich is for Luca. Once I get my armor back, I'm visiting him in jail with Miss Yun—"

"_Luca_? As in, _Luca Blight_?!"

"Ah, was that his full name? I couldn't remember."

"C-Cecile," he sputtered, "What the hell are you doing taking a freaking _sandwich_ to Luca Blight?"

Many of Clive's "observations" from the shadows over the past few months solely consisted of keeping tabs on the Highland prince. To his surprise, the man had yet to commit any _known_ atrocities on the castle grounds, save for the incident with Thomas in the halls. Yet after actively participating in the Dunan Unification War and serving as part of the very ambush that ensured Luca's death, Clive knew firsthand that the prince was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn't about to take any chances. Directly confronting Luca would be reckless, but turning a blind eye would be even more foolish.

_I thought my own circumstances were puzzling, but seeing that bastard return from the dead is worse._

"I was thinking," Cecile said slowly, as if forming her plan mid-conversation, "and maybe it was _my _fault Master Thomas was injured. If I had been more vigilant, if I hadn't been away traveling… well, I guess what I'm saying is… if I can _befriend_ Luca, then I won't ever have to worry about Master Thomas getting hurt again! So what better way to get off on the right foot than with a sandwich? He can apologize for hurting Master Thomas, I'll apologize for yelling, and then we'll make up!"

The absurdity of the situation made his head spin. Admittedly Clive felt a guilty twinge of satisfaction when he heard Thomas was knocked down a peg by Luca Blight in the hallway—served the kid right for running around without taking Cecile's feelings into consideration, after all—but the simple news of Luca's return from the dead in general was deeply disturbing. The knowledge that Thomas foolishly permitted the Highland prince to waltz right through the castle gates and settle in left Clive questioning if he actually was in the future, or some bizarre alternate reality instead. Even if the young castle master was oblivious to Cecile's affections, it still didn't mean he deserved the disaster that would follow if Luca continued to live amongst them.

"You can't go giving him a sandwich and expect everything's going to be fine. He's a _madman_, Cecile!"

Her mouth pulled into a taut frown. "Miss Yun said he did terrible things, but she's dating him! And...and if Miss Yun sees something good in him, I want to believe her!"

Clive wasn't sure which was more absurd, an apology sandwich, or the thought of Luca Blight in a committed relationship. "Whatever the Alma Kinan shaman told you, I _swear _it's not going to change the fact that he's bad news and _only_ belongs in that jail cell, or _dead_—like he was _before_."

"Miss Yun was dead too! But now she's back! So anything could happen!"

"Ugh," he groaned and pulled his hood up over his head. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation…"

"I'm sorry if I've upset you, Sir Clive… but as Budehuc's garrison commander, I'm responsible for everyone's safety! And sometimes that means I need to take extreme actions!"

"Then who's responsible for _your_ safety? _Thomas_? Lot of good he did, like he's going to be able to keep you safe after getting _himself _cut up."

"I don't need anyone keeping _me_ safe!" she sprang to her feet and puffed out her chest, the sight somehow more comical without her armor. "Just you watch, Sir Clive! I _will_ make new friends!"

"Stubborn…" he muttered under his breath. This alternate reality was full of unexpected things. If befriending Luca Blight was as simple as making a sandwich, a lot of bloodshed and tragedy could have been avoided during the Dunan Unification War. Then again, here he was in the future, and people were coming back from the dead. Maybe sandwiches were stronger than firearms after all. Clive cast her a wary look from underneath his hood. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay?"

"You have my word as captain of the guard!"

"I'd like to have your word as Cecile, since the _captain of the guard_ is the one rushing in without thinking things through first."

"Fine," she sighed and gave him a smile. "I give you my word, Sir Clive. You can count on me!"

"Good."


	24. Cecile: Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yun and Cecile visit the Budehuc jail in an attempt to reconcile with Luca Blight, and things don't quite go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are based on a group chat log from April 1st, 2005.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my mother, and all those times I told you I was doing homework online with a study group. _I wasn't_.

A pair of footsteps made their way through the lower castle sublevels, one soft and light, the other sending a distinct _ clunk _ echoing down the stone halls. Cecile focused on the steady sounds in attempts to quell her mounting anxiety. A nervous sensation fluttered in her stomach as they walked further down the corridor, as if large, powdery Chon-Chon moths had taken up residence beneath her armor and were determined to wage battle against her confidence. 

_ I’m definitely doing the right thing...right? _

She swallowed and cast her friend a quick glance. Yun remained composed and calm, her own footsteps barely audible, although the leather moccasins of the Alma Kinan were notably softer compared to Cecile’s own armored sabatons. 

“I appreciate your offer to accompany me, Cecile,” Yun said, catching the young guard’s eye. 

“Of course! After all, I’m the garrison commander! This is part of my job!”

“Really?” Yun raised an eyebrow. As usual, there was weight behind her words, and Cecile suspected the shaman already knew her true motives extended beyond offering a simple sandwich.

“Well… _ yes_, but you’re also my friend. I want to support you! Even if I don’t really understand it…”

“You’re _ trying _ to understand. That already is more than most people would do,” Yun answered with a sad smile. “I refuse to believe anyone can be wholly good or evil. I’m willing to take that chance and see what the fates have in store. And the first step towards understanding is learning… right?”

Cecile frowned and looked straight ahead again. As far as she was concerned, _ anyone _who had the nerve to strike Thomas was as close to evil as possible. But there was something gentle and reassuring about Yun’s confidence. Hearing her words made it difficult to remain angry. “Maybe so,” she scowled, “but it doesn’t excuse his bad behavior.”

Yun giggled. “I can agree with you there. Perhaps having a little bit of time to reflect is just what Luca needed. Just because we’ve been on a few dates doesn’t mean he can start trouble whenever he wants.”

_ Hurting Master Thomas should carry a far heavier punishment than a simple time-out in jail! But… I’ll never make friends if we keep him in prison forever. _

Cecile patted her shield strapped to her back, reminding herself it was still there as extra reassurance. The success of her plan depended on befriending Luca. Once she managed to secure his friendship, Thomas’s safety was all but guaranteed, and there would be no more hallway scuffles. The plan was positively flawless, but that was to be expected after receiving Koroku’s encouragement. 

"But still..." The shaman offered another gentle smile, “I really do mean it. Thank you for coming with me.” 

Yun’s pace slowed as they approached the occupied cell, and she stopped in front of the bars, offering a polite bow. “Luca,” she called, “I’ve come to visit again! I apologize for taking so long. I’ve brought a guest with me!”

Cecile felt her earlier brazen courage start to evaporate. She glanced down the hallway, taking note of the single torch behind them. The second sublevel was far darker than she remembered, and she squinted as her eyes adjusted. Finally the form of a person came into view. Budehuc’s prisoner sat hunched over atop the cold bench, half his face cast in shadow. The meager torchlight flickered across his armor, stark white with gold gilding along the edges that caught the light and glimmered from the darkness of the cell. His eyes followed Yun, piercing and sharp.

Were he better behaved, she'd _ almost _ feel a little sorry for how lonely solitary confinement must be. This was the first time she had a chance to get a proper look at him, and he was just as much an intimidating brute as she recalled—

_ No! I’m on a mission! I can’t think about someone I’m attempting to befriend like that! _

"I brought you a sandwich!" Cecile held out a small orange bundle, her olive branch."It's ham! You... you really like pigs, right?" she offered. It didn't take a lot of guessing, he seemed to reference them frequently, so it naturally _ must _ be a preference.

Luca swiveled an eye over in her direction. "Are you mocking me?"

"No! I made it myself!" 

"So you're trying to poison me then, are you?"

"W-what?! Why would we poison you?!" 

Yun stepped up and put a hand on Cecile's shoulder. "Luca...she wouldn't do such a thing. We came to visit you, to see how you're doing."

"Don't lie to me," the man glared back over at Cecile, his heavy eyebrows furrowing. "_You've _ had it out for me since day one."

_ Well... he’s not necessarily wrong. But it’s his own fault for threatening Master Thomas! _

Cecile found herself clenching the bundled sandwich tighter. This was supposed to be a peace offering, why was he making it so difficult? She recalled Clive’s objections from the other day and felt spurned on to prove herself even more. "If you must know, I came to _ apologize _ for shouting at you! And hopefully _ you _ can apologize for hurting Master Thomas!”

"Apologize? Hmph," Luca rolled his eyes. "So you're trying to save yourself, are you? Pathetic. You swine are all the same. Don’t think groveling will convince me to spare your life once I’m finished here."

"I’m doing nothing of the sort! I can hold my own against you any time," Cecile puffed out in a display of confidence. Deep down she knew she probably was sorely outmatched, and she _ did _ promise Thomas not to provoke him any further, but it was too tempting not to rise to his taunt. "As garrison commander, I can't afford to make useless enemies. Besides," she looked over at her friend still calmly observing at her side, "Miss Yun sees something good in you. Budehuc does not _ indefinitely _ house its prisoners, so I imagine you’ve probably had some time to think about what you’ve done and are ready to make amends."

"_Useless _ enemies? Are you saying I'm _ useless_? Fool, if I wasn't locked up in jail..."

“Luca, please,” Yun took a step forward. “There’s nothing to be gained from making new enemies.”

“Why do you defend such a useless woman?”

“Because, this ‘useless woman’ is my _ friend_. One of the few that I do have here at the castle.” 

“Friend?” Luca spat and stood from his seat - he really _ was _ huge. A sinister grin slowly unfurled across his lips, followed by laughter. There was no warmth in the sound as it echoed down the halls. “Why make friends with _ anyone _at this castle?”

“Don’t be silly! You _ need _ friends! You should try listening to Miss Yun, Luca!”

“You don’t need friends,” he locked eyes with Cecile, his voice low. “You need _ power_. Whether it’s my own strength, or Yun’s visions, _ power _ is what separates the strong from the weak.”

“You’ve got it all wrong! Friends are what give you power!”

Yun nodded, still keeping close to Cecile’s side. “I agree with Cecile on that.”

Luca’s glare shifted over to the shaman. “So you too are going against me, Yun? I knew you were soft, but _ this_...”

“I’m not choosing sides, Luca,” Yun kept her voice steady and calm. “I just believe that relying on power isn't the path to happiness. People can't always depend on their strength alone to face life’s challenges. We become even stronger when we work together towards common goals.”

“I don’t need friends to achieve my goals... I have power, and with power comes followers.”

“Even with a possible fear of betrayal? Not all followers believe in the same ideals and goals as their leaders.”

“Heh. Betrayal? I _ execute _ traitors. I'll be blunt,” he ran his hand through his hair and moved closer to the bars, turning his focus back to Cecile, “I don't care if you're apologizing and want to ‘forgive and forget’, _ I'm _not going to forget your mockery, woman. You'd better hope you're as good of a guard as Thomas claims you are, or you’ll both be sorry.”

A tremor of fear rippled through her. This was not the time to get scared, but his words crawled under her skin. “I don't ask you to forget, but if you want to live here, it's important for us to understand each other!”

“Understand? Try to understand _ this _ then. I'm going to kill you. When I get out of here.... I _ will _ kill you.”

“Just you try!” Cecile’s temper rose again and trumped the fear. “I won't let anything come between me and the safety of the castle! Look, Luca, I came down here to speak _ civilly _with you, and it doesn't seem to be getting anywhere!” 

“If you want to be _ civilized_,” he lowered his voice with a dark grin, “why don't you enter my cell?”

“Absolutely not! Besides, only Master Thomas has jurisdiction over the cell keys. And he’s...” she looked away and recalled Thomas’s pained face as he sat in the infirmary, “He’s... busy right now.”

“Heh... ‘Master’ Thomas,” Luca chuckled, “I still don't see why anyone looks up to that pig as master of this dump. Even now he’s still too weak to handle his own affairs!”

“He’s ten times the leader you’ll ever be!” she put her hands on her hips and continued to admonish him. Even if Luca was nearly twice her size, she couldn’t help but feel the urge to scold. After all, it was his bad behavior that put him in jail in the first place. “You must get a _ little _ lonely without friends. Why do you do this to yourself?! You _ do _ realize you would have a much nicer time living here if you just behaved!”

“Why are _ you _ so interested?”

“Because I feel sorry for you!”

“You'd better stop feeling sorry for me right now, woman. I don’t need your pity or your friendship. I didn’t ask for your company.”

Yun’s countenance was as calm and serene as ever, but Cecile noted out of the corner of her eye the shaman was playing with the cuffs of her sleeves. She stepped forward, interjecting herself between them. “People worry, Luca - at least, I know I do.”

“Feh,” Luca looked away. “Whether or not you’re telling the truth, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill your friend here, and then we’ll see who cares.”

_ Big talk from a man behind bars! _

“You should be more mindful of your behavior,” Cecile tapped the heel of her spear against the stone floor to command his attention, “Miss Yun is in the process of assembling a small council of residents. If she can get a vote of approval, you’ll be released. With certain _ rules _ you’ll need to follow, of course!”

Finally a spark of interest crossed his face. “I will follow _ no one’s _rules. When I get out of here, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Heh,” Cecile grinned, “that’s _ if _ you get out!” 

“_When _ I get out.”

“I’m confident I can make a solid appeal in your favor, Luca,” Yun said gently. “But Cecile is right. If you expect to live here with everyone, you will have to try to get along.”

“Yes!” Cecile puffed out again. “I don’t know what more I can say to help you understand, Luca, but your time here is dependent on the goodwill of others!”

“If talking with me is so difficult,” he growled, “then why don’t you come in here and say it to my face?” 

“I _ would_—!” Of course, it was easy to say that when a set of iron bars stood between the two of them. “But I don’t have the keys!” 

“Neither of us have them, Luca,” Yun chimed in, then cast an embarrassed glance at Cecile. “Master Thomas lent me his second set, but I… I dropped them on my last visit,” she admitted. 

_ Uh oh. _

“You… you mean they’re just sitting around somewhere? Right now?!” Cecile scanned the stone floor. Suddenly all that extra gusto wasn’t feeling quite so good after all. How could they have gone missing?! And if Master Thomas found out… well, he’d probably be quite understanding about the whole matter, but it was still disgraceful to be so sloppy.

Yun’s laughter was nervous. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll turn up. Anyways,” she abruptly changed the subject, “I’m hoping we can get this all cleared up in time for the upcoming spring festival! It would be a shame if Luca missed out.” 

Cecile cast a sideways glance at Luca back in the cell. He seemed completely disinterested in their conversation. Festival talk was probably not very high on his list of interests, she thought to herself wryly. Unfortunately, the news of the missing jail key put a damper on her own eagerness to discuss the festival, but it was hard to feel nervous in the light of Yun’s friendly smile. 

“Ah! The festival! I was just talking about it with Sir Clive! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Absolutely!” Yun nodded. “It has been hard to find time to pull everything together, but it all seems to be falling into place,” she said. Her smile was serene, almost trance-like. Cecile got the sensation that there was more than simple intuition behind Yun’s words. 

“I’m so glad Peggi managed to clean my armor and sharpen my spear so quickly this year! I want them to be bright and shiny for the festival!”

“Oh, how cute! Are you participating in any activities?”

“I was thinking of hosting the dog races,” Cecile shyly rubbed her nose, then grew self conscious and looked back over at the jail cell. Luca was watching them now, no longer distracted. 

_ Maybe I was wrong, and he feels left out after all! _

“What is it?” she called over to him, “I know you’re probably feeling jealous about all our upcoming festival fun, but if you behave, you can play too!” 

“Tch,” he rolled his eyes. “You… why don’t you come closer for a minute?”

“Eh? What for?”

“It’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Cecile looked over at Yun and frowned. “From Miss Yun?” 

Yun shrugged and continued smiling. 

“It’s a secret between you and I.”

This was new. Cecile recalled Yun mentioning the two of them went on a _ date _ earlier, and as difficult as it was to imagine someone as uncouth as Luca spending quality time with the gentle shaman… 

_ Ooh, maybe that’s what his secret is about? _

“Really? But… we don’t _ have _ any secrets.”

“Oh _ yes _ we do. Get over here. It’ll be fine, trust me.”

Cecile took a tentative step closer until her face was only a few paces from his. The only division between them were the iron bars. Fear was trumped by curiosity. And that same curiosity only fueled her encouragement. After all, secrets were shared between _ friends_, and friendship was her ultimate goal. 

_ If he’s already comfortable enough in sharing secrets, that means we’re well on our way to becoming friends! _

“What… what was your secret?” she lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “Is it about Miss Yun?”

“What I wanted to tell you—” 

He suddenly slammed his weight into the door and sent it swinging wide open. Cecile stumbled backwards and caught sight of a familiar glint from the door’s lock in the corner of her eye… 

_ No… the key?! All this time... _ he _ had it!? How long has the door been unlocked?! _

Luca launched his weight at her and threw a series of punches, sending her spear careening across the stone floor. 

“_Die, pig—! _” 

Somehow she managed to block his hits with her shield, but it was too close for comfort. Cecile let out a sharp cry in surprise and skid backwards under the weight of his blows. Something told her this wasn’t even a fraction of his strength, yet it took almost all of hers to keep his punches at bay. 

“L-Luca!” Yun tried to jump between the two of them. “Please! Stop!”

“You’re _ dead_, you’re so dead, woman!” 

“Luca, _ please_! Stop this right now!”

He kept up the assault of punches, each one echoing against her shield. Any normal person would be sore from striking the hard iron, but clearly he was not a normal person. “How _ dare _ you mock the prince of Highland?! Stay still so I can _ punch you to death_—!”

“Luca! Calm down!” Yun tried to grab at his arm only to be pushed away. “Remember what I told you—you _ can’t_!”

“Stay out of this, Yun! She had this coming... captain of the guards, hmph!” he glared at Yun but reluctantly obeyed and drew back. “Consider your friend lucky… if what you said is true about your vision, it’s probably not worth my time anyways.”

Cecile struggled to keep her knees straight and was grateful to have her shield blocking their view. Her lungs burned, each breath painful as she tried to catch her wind after his assault. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her worn down. 

“Luca,” Yun pleaded, reaching for his arm again, “I won’t stand here and watch you do such a thing to my friend.”

“M...Miss Yun,” Cecile slowly drew her shield away. Yun’s expression was pained. “How... how do you tolerate this kind of behavior?!”

Luca chuckled and leaned back against the open cell bars. He loomed over the two of them like a hungry wolf. 

“_You_…” Cecile glared. “_You _ need to seriously think about your behavior! Is this any way to act?! We just told you moments ago that we were working towards helping you get _ released_—! Do you _ want _ to stay in jail?! We need to talk civilly!”

“Heh… ‘civilly’, huh? My way of talking is _ killing _ you.”

“Luca, _ please_,” Yun stood between the two, her arms outstretched. “If you hurt her... I would hate you forever. I warned you what would happen.”

“Yun…” Luca recoiled slightly. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I refuse.”

Cecile felt a swell of admiration for her friend’s bravery. Yun stood unflinching, staring this beast of a man down like it was nothing. Time seemed to stand still in the dark hallway. The only sound she could hear was the drumming of her own heart in her ears, trying to wind down after their stand-off. 

Another scoff broke the silence. “Tch…then maybe I’ll turn my sights towards your _ precious _ Thomas instead,” Luca looked back at Cecile, and she felt her blood run cold. “You’re more than welcome to try and stop me.”

“Y… you wouldn’t. That’s against castle rules!” She was certain somewhere ‘don’t kill the master of the castle’ would obviously be some kind of infraction. 

“I already told you that I don’t follow the rules.”

“I thought you’d appreciate my apology, my _ nice sandwich_, but now I see you’re practically no better than Yuber!” 

“How quaint. You know nothing about me. Yuber and I used to be partners. Rather, he worked _ for _ me,” Luca folded his arms and stared down in silent challenge.

The news that Luca and Yuber had some kind of alliance in the past was not comforting in the least. “Yes,” Cecile paused, “but he wasn’t your _ friend_.”

“I don’t _ want _ friends.”

“I think you are just angry because you don’t _ have _ any friends!”

“You don’t know when to shut up, do you, woman?!” 

Yun reached out and touched his shoulder without any hesitation. “Luca. I am going to approach our committee about having you released. In the meantime,” she raised her fingers to reveal the missing jail key, “I’m sorry to do this, but please… if you could return to your cell?”

“What? When did you... Like hell I’m going back in there! Is this some kind of joke?!”

“No joke,” Yun answered gently. “But you’ll probably just be sent right back in if people spot you walking around. I suspect the younger Viki may not be very pleased to see you. So… behave and wait for us to deliberate. Okay? I have a good feeling about the outcome,” said and pressed the key between her hands with another smile.

Luca hovered in place for a moment. It was obvious he was weighing his options. After a pause, he scoffed again and shrugged his shoulders, as if their entire argument was nothing more than a mild annoyance. “Feh… Whatever. I’d rather be in jail than waste my time in _ this _ one’s company,” he jabbed a thumb in Cecile’s direction and stepped back into his cell. “If you know what’s good for your _ friend _here, you’ll see that your little committee reaches the right decision, Yun. There are limits to my patience.” 

“Hmhm. Of course,” Yun continued to smile as she locked the door. “I promise.” The shaman quietly slipped her hand next to Cecile’s side and steered the two of them away from the jail cell. “We’ll see you later, Luca."

Cecile felt a small weighted object drop into her pocket—the key! 

Yun gave her a secret smile as they departed down the hallway. 


	25. Fred: Overhear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred Maximillian and Clive attend the Budehuc spring festival and overhear an unfortunate conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post made April 2nd, 2005.
> 
> Taking a small holiday hiatus and will be posting again in January.

“Dammit, I should’ve listened to Cecile.”

Clive sat with a scowl at the snack booth, his gun propped against the bench. He looked out of place in his cloak amidst the other residents dressed in their festival robes. The gunner peered into his wallet and grumbled to himself before tucking it back into his cloak.

Fred Maximillian offered a good-natured chuckle as he adjusted the obi belt of his own yukata. The sight of Clive sulking in black amidst a sea of festival-goers in colorful garb was like watching someone willingly trudging off to a funeral procession rather than participating in an occasion for merriment. But if Clive’s sour expression and empty coin purse were any indication... his accuracy in his marksmanship was unmatched, but that obviously didn’t extend to the festival races.

“Is this about the dog races, Sir Clive?” Fred asked.

“How’d you guess? The dog I bet my potch on didn’t even make it across the starting line…”

“Ah, that would be… Connie, I believe?” the Maximillian Knight reached across the booth and handed Clive another skewered sweet. “Lady Cecile did mention she wasn’t looking like herself lately, the poor pup…”

“Yeah, well, I should’ve bet on the other one,” Clive ripped into the doughy desert and sighed again. “How’s business here going?”

“Fantastic! This is my first time manning a festival booth,” Fred said with a grin. The Budehuc courtyard was bustling with activity as residents milled about from stall to stall, sampling sweets and participating in games. Admittedly the turnout wasn’t as high as during wartime, but with the steady uptick in new arrivals, Fred found himself pleasantly surprised by how much business he was conducting. 

A proud assortment of skewered sweets in pastel hues were displayed in tidy row at the front of his booth, the treats courtesy of Mamie’s baking. Each sale contributed towards much-needed repairs to the castle’s crumbling perimeter walls, and stronger walls meant boosted defense. Just because it was peacetime didn’t mean they could let their guard down. It was _ exactly _ the sort of endeavor Fred was keen to support. How could he not? 

_ The duty of a Maximillian Knight is about more than just ridding the world of evil… it is also our calling to bring good into this world as well. And what better way than to bring joy through community service? _

Fred smiled to himself. Yes, this must be precisely why he felt drawn to Budehuc after all the time spent away. A Maximillian always knew when there were people in need and couldn’t help but seek out wherever they may best put their talents to work. What better need was there than to assist his former comrades in fortifying their home? And if another battle ever _ did _ reach Budehuc’s doorstep once more, they’d be protected… partly in thanks to his own contributions, of course.

“I guess,” Clive shrugged and took another bite from his skewer. “At least Cecile was enjoying herself, and the potch goes towards a decent cause. Too bad you weren’t able to participate from your booth.”

“That’s quite all right, Sir Clive!” Fred said. “Provided I am doing some good, that is all I ask for! I am grateful Master Thomas assigned me this spot. I have a clear view of all the festivities from here…” 

Fred trailed off as his eyes wandered. Standing only a few paces away was Yun, dressed in a deep green yukata and directing festival-goers with a smile as gentle as the evening breeze fluttering through her hair. She almost seemed to glow with an otherworldly presence. He suddenly found himself sticking one too many sweets on his next skewer and fumbled to realign the display.

“Heh,” Clive grinned. Nothing seemed to escape the marksman’s notice. “Real subtle.”

“I...I beg your pardon?”

“Just warning you, she’s not worth your time.”

“Wh-what? I _ assure _ you—”

“Save it,” Clive waved dismissively and polished off the rest of his pastry, “Cecile said the shaman is dating _ Luca Blight, _ of all people. I thought it was a joke, but…” he snapped the skewer in half and glowered. 

The light, jubilant sensation that had only moments earlier filled Fred with weightless joy instantly evaporated. “Ah… yes, I recall him,” Fred swallowed. How could he forget their encounter back in February? Although every fiber of his Maximillian heart was screaming out to vanquish evil, Yun’s attachment to Luca was a bewildering development that left Fred feeling powerless to intervene. It didn’t help that the man bore the same name as the very villain from the stories his grandfather often recounted. 

_ In fact… I daresay he is probably the same man. How many Luca Blights can there possibly be? _

He slowly exhaled, partly to calm his nerves but mostly to avoid losing composure in Clive’s company. Somewhere underneath the bravado, Fred couldn’t deny his grandfather’s stories surrounding the Dunan Unification War were possibly even more grim than the old man let on. It was easy to imagine his grandfather bravely leading a charge into battle. But even old Maximillian himself struggled to recount some of the atrocities. Fred knew his grandfather joined the war effort after Luca Blight was defeated, yet his tales of the Highland prince’s campaign of terror across the city-states and the desolation of Muse were always recounted with solemnity. 

If Luca Blight was alive and well, Budehuc’s walls would need more than reinforcements. And the Highland prince seemed _ very _ alive and _ very _ well, even if he was _ also _ very much in jail for the time being. So then _ why_—

Yun turned and caught his eye from across the courtyard. She smiled and offered a little wave. Something lurched in his stomach at the sight. He half-raised a hand, still holding a skewer, but her attention was already elsewhere as she glided across the festival grounds, ushering participants to a nearby fishing game.

_ Lady Yun is a gentle soul… she must see something in the man I cannot see for myself. _

Everything about Luca Blight set Fred’s nerves on edge, but if a shaman of the Alma Kinan deemed him worthy...

A loud clatter from the adjacent booth startled Fred out of his thoughts. He craned his neck, peering past the corner of the stall. 

“I-I don’t understand… _ why_?”

Fred knew the voice before even setting eyes on the spectacle. An empty, upturned basket laid at the feet of Budehuc’s castle master, but the young man’s attention was transfixed on the figure standing opposite him. Thomas wrung his hands, his face pale and panicked. Unlike the other festival-goers, he was still dressed in his standard clothes, his rust-colored jacket slung over his shoulder. 

“Look, Thomas… I’m sorry. But I think it’s for the best.”

The second voice was vaguely familiar… Fred didn’t like to eavesdrop, but—

“Hn.” Clive apparently had no qualms eavesdropping and was already pulling his cloak over his head.

_ S-Sir Clive!? So brazen… but if I simply happen to accidentally overhear...it can’t be helped, right? _

“Kinnison… I… I think I deserve a better answer than that.”

The young archer stood opposite Thomas dressed in his hunting gear with his bow slung across his back, Shiro patiently waiting at his side. The wolf sniffed the air, no doubt enjoying all the scents of the festival. Kinnison placed his hand on Thomas’s shoulder and offered a small smile. “It was a lot of fun, but I just don’t think we’re suited for each other. And I can’t stay here… I need to get moving again. There’s something I have to do.”

“S… something you have to do?”

“Yes. I need to return to the forest. There’s something amiss, something I can _ feel_,” Kinnison’s hold on Thomas’s shoulder tightened. “Shiro feels it too. And I need to find out if it has to do with how I arrived here in the first place.”

_ Ah, that’s right. Sir Kinnison is among the transported. _

Another wave of guilt washed over Fred as he watched Thomas’s nervous fidgeting. This was clearly not a conversation he was meant to hear. And even worse, Fred couldn’t help but _ agree _ with Kinnison. He had no qualms with the archer’s residence at Budehuc, but if there was a way to solve the mysteries surrounding the new arrivals, that meant… 

_ If he can find the answers for himself, maybe those same answers will extend to Luca Blight as well. _

“T-then can’t you just stay here and search for the answers? I mean, it would make the most sense!”

“I’ve _ tried_, Thomas. Really, I have. I still have no idea how Viki sent me here or why. I need to broaden my search, and the forest… well, we aren’t usually away from the forest this long anyways.”

“I can come with you! I promise not to be a burden…”

“It’s not about that. Your place is _ here_, Thomas. I’ve heard how you talk about the people here. This is your calling in life. Don’t let me take that away from you.”

“Kinnison… But…”

“I've been selfish, I guess. My problems… they’re my own. It’s not right to keep getting other people involved.”

Fred and Clive exchanged glances. The corner of the gunner’s mouth twitched. 

_ This is… _

“Do you have to go?”

Kinnison nodded. “It’s unusual for us to stay put for very long anyways, and… I don’t think Viki is going to send Shiro and I back home any time soon.”

“I just… I don’t understand,” Thomas mumbled, his hands folded.

“I had a lot of fun here. With everyone. With you. But I need to go, I’m sorry.”

_ ...a goodbye. _

Thomas lowered his head, then silently crouched to retrieve the fallen basket as Kinnison withdrew his hand. 

“You have a lot to live for, Thomas. Cherish the people around you and enjoy every moment. And… you really should read Cecile’s letters,” the archer added and offered one last gentle smile.

Thomas turned around and walked away with the basket in hand. Kinnison leaned over and gave Shiro a quiet pat, then set off in the opposite direction. Their somber departure painted a starkly different scene compared to the joyous sounds of the festival surrounding them. 

_ Oh dear... _

“Well.” Clive spun back around on his bench and set the broken pieces of his skewer atop the snack booth. “Guess that’s over with.”

“S-Sir Clive, how can you be so casual!? Poor Master Thomas… I feel guilty witnessing such a vulnerable moment.”

“Rejection is part of growing up,” the gunner shrugged and removed his hood. “They weren’t suited for each other anyways.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If it’s any consolation, Fred, I can guarantee that Yun and Luca aren’t suited for each other either.”

The Maximillian Knight swallowed and tried to stifle the heat rising to his face. “I-I don’t see how that’s even remotely related. Besides, we shouldn’t be prying into the private lives of others!”

“Didn’t stop you from listening in, did it?”

_ Urk. Of course Sir Clive hits his mark. _


	26. Luca: Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luca remembers his past defeat, reflects on his present imprisonment, plans for his prophesied future... and eats lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are based on canon events and a creative piece originally written on January 21st, 2008. Special thanks to Madth333 for brainstorming assistance.

He never made it a point to remember any of his men. Their purpose was to serve in his war, and those of the lowest rank were easily replaced. A sea of nameless faces, clad in the official Highland uniform surrounded him on all sides, and he towered above them all from atop his horse. They traipsed through the forest beneath the star-filled sky. Each step forward was almost unbearably tantalizing as they drew closer to their destination. It was only a matter of time now until their night raid would come to fruition, and he burned with anticipation.

“Look,” he chuckled, gesturing outwards and speaking to whomever was closest and willing to listen—of course, they _ all _ should listen to the words of their prince, “The torches in Dunan Castle are burning. They’re probably in there trying to figure out how to run away.”

There was some indiscriminate snickering from his men. After each hardship and setback along the way, the thought of the Dunan Army scurrying around like aimless insects was worth savoring. But what he looked forward to the most was crushing those insects beneath his heel. And it was _ so _ close, nearly in his grasp. 

“I have a report!” a soldier cried as he ran through the brush and approached the front of their entourage. 

He never made it a point to remember any of his men. But the voice of this particular messenger remained burned in his memory, and he hated it.

“The advance forces,” the soldier continued as he struggled to catch his breath, “_our _ advance forces are under attack by the Dunan Army!”

Before he even had a moment to process the news, a second soldier shouted from their rear, “Lord Luca! The Dunan Army has appeared behind us!”

“What!?” he whipped his head back at the soldier behind him. “Hiding in the woods?! You can't do anything right, you worthless fools!”

_ It looks like you’ll be getting the fight you desire a little earlier than expected. _

The low voice of the True Beast Rune whispered to him from afar, reaching the deepest corners of his mind despite physically resting leagues away in Highland. He gripped the bridle and sensed his horse stir uncomfortably. After all the blood sacrifice he performed, all the death rendered by his hand, when would the rune finally choose him as its wielder? A time like this would be perfect for its power. 

_ You know you can’t depend on anyone. These worthless worms are beneath you_. 

A sneer unfurled across his face. Of course. He didn’t really need the rune’s power. He was strong enough all on his own without its aid. But still, the incompetence of his forces was infuriating. 

“L-Lord Luca!” 

A soldier dove in front of his horse, but the gesture was too little, too late. A torrent of arrows rained down on them from the surrounding trees, whistling through the air like a chorus of excitable birds. His horse shrieked and whinnied, toppling to the ground. He immediately swung himself over its side and landed flat on his feet before its body met the dirt.

It took a moment for the pain to sink in. He stumbled back with a grunt. There were too many arrows to count, each sticking out at all angles. Some managed to crack through his breastplate, others met no resistance and struck fabric and flesh at the joints in his armor and exposed sides. His chest heaved with each breath. He reached up and snapped an arrow jutting out by his stomach in two, tossing the splintered half to the ground. 

“Protect Lord Luca!” another soldier shouted. 

They continued to surround him in vain. He could feel their trepidation radiating off them. A second storm of arrows sliced through their blockade. Their bodies crumpled to the ground with little resistance as the arrows cleaved through armor and met flesh. Surrounded by the groans and dying screams of his men, he stumbled and fell to his knees. 

_ Is this all you have to offer? I thought you were better than this. _

A fresh wave of pain flooded through him. It was impossible to tell how many new arrows pierced past his armor this round, but every man who guarded him moments earlier laid dead in the dirt, and the rear of his entourage was fast approaching in hopes of lending more aid. 

A small pool of blood underneath him began to grow, and he could sense the True Beast Rune’s delight in death and bloodshed from afar. Rage and disgust boiled in his chest—it was feeding off their blood—_his _ blood.

_ Ally or enemy… you all bleed the same. _

He struggled to pull himself to his feet, then froze in place as the brush across him parted. Their leader stood at the front of the charge, his red and white sleeveless shift was crisp and unstained as it fluttered in the evening breeze. They locked eyes. He seethed. 

_ Riou. _

Again and again, without fail, it was always Riou. How could this pitiful, fresh-faced _ nothing _ take their entire entourage by surprise? 

The young man remained silent. His warm brown eyes stared straight through him, firm and unwavering. They were only a few years apart in age, yet there was something infuriatingly _ childlike _ about the leader of the Dunan Army. Despite being surrounded by death and war, Riou somehow maintained a youthful, untouchable air. He hated it. 

“_You_… How did you... know about... the night raid…”

“Luca Blight!” one of the men at the front of the Dunan Army stepped forward, shaking an angry fist, “I want your head!” 

He didn’t have the time to listen to the squealing shouts of some pathetic _ follower_. His eyes remained fixed on Riou, and he drew his sword. “Foolish braggart! You think a weakling like you can stand up against me?!”

Highland soldiers from the rear of his entourage surrounded him in a protective formation as they rushed into battle against the Dunan Army. His sword flashed through the air. Every connecting hit was exhilarating. He didn’t even care who was standing in his way—anyone obstructing his path to _ Riou _ would be cut down without mercy.

_ More. This isn’t enough. Why aren’t you killing them faster? _

His body ached and burned with exertion. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was dimly aware of the collection of arrows jutting out from his body. Each twist, turn, and step felt slower and more difficult as the pain dug its greedy hooks in deeper and deeper. He sensed the impatience of The True Beast Rune. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to _ lose_.

“Ugh… beaten by the likes of you…”

_ Beaten? This isn’t it. Give more of yourself. When did you become so weak? _

There was still time. If he could make a tactical retreat and regroup with the main forces, then establish contact with a medic— 

“This time I'll pay you back for sure, Luca Blight!”

Who was talking now?! 

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t _ Riou_. 

“You maggots…”

He grunted, fighting back against the disquieting rattle in his chest each time he drew in a breath. Details began to blur together. The flames rippling across his blade from the Sword of Rage rune embedded in its hilt seemed to dance in time with his own frenzied heartbeat. More soldiers from the rear jumped into battle alongside him, but their movements no longer registered. They were so eager to protect, so eager to _ die_. It didn’t matter if they died. They were fodder. They were _ meant _ to die. After all, the True Beast Rune didn’t care who it fed on, whether it was his own men or those of the opposing army. Once again, the bodies of his men dropped around him at his feet.

_ Look at these miserable weaklings. You carry on, pierced by arrows, while your men are felled one by one. _

A furious rumbling coursed through his blood and pounded in his ears. He dropped to one knee and bit the inside of his cheek in anger. 

“Y-you... H... how... How could I lose…”

Riou lowered his tonfa with watchful eyes. The young man’s yellow scarf was stained with blood. The sight only further infuriated him. He knew it wasn’t Riou’s blood. It was _ his_.

“You little swine... who do you think you are!?” he growled, rising back to his feet. Pure adrenaline and rage pulsed through him, as if the will of the True Beast Rune were his own. “Why?! …_Riou_... Why are _ you _ the winner?! Why must _ I _lose?! Is this my fate?!”

_ Fate is unimportant. All that matters is strength. The strength to wipe clean every filthy blemish. Rip and tear until nothing is left. _

Riou continued to watch wordlessly. His silence only made him angrier.

“I can't die until all of you swine are wiped off the face of this world!”

_ That’s right. Not yet. _

The next wave of support from the flank of his entourage approached, providing just enough distraction for him to break away on his own. He hastened through the brush with heavy footsteps. Maybe those who were too preoccupied with concepts of chivalry and knightly codes of conduct might find it cowardly to retreat. But this wasn’t a matter of cowardice. He _ had _ to survive. He wasn’t finished yet. 

A gentle summer breeze tousled his hair as he approached the cliff’s edge. A steady chorus of singing crickets hung thick in the air. The sound was suffocating, as if they were mocking him. Small, insignificant, _ weak_—completely oblivious to the world at large and all his grand plans. Just like the Dunan Army. Insects worthy of staining the sole of his foot and nothing more. 

_ I expected better from you. _

The True Beast Rune hissed into his ear. It was impossible to tell if the burning sensation flowing through his body was due to the pain, or from the rune’s wrath. It was disappointed in his weakness and mortal limitations.

“Ugh... y-you…”

_ There is more blood to be shed. _

“I... I can't die... here…” he rasped as he stopped and leaned against the only tree in the clearing. Everything burned. The True Beast Rune seemed unphased by his declaration and continued to needle at him. 

_ You really think you can recover from this? And you wanted to wield my power… how pitiful. _

“Have I... really... lost?”

_ If you need to ask that of yourself, you’re already done. _

“Damn! You think I'm afraid!? You think I fear death!?”

He clenched his hand into a fist, slamming it into the tree’s trunk. The shock pulsed through him, and he braced his core as a fresh wave of pain rippled outwards. A guttural sound filled his ears, drowning out the singing crickets. The rune was laughing at him, its jeers animalistic and coarse. There was nothing he could do to drown it out. 

“Fear is a stupid emotion.”

As if he feared _ death_. He _ was _ death. It was by his hand he rendered unspeakable slaughter. And there was still more to be done. So long as the City-States still existed, he would never be finished— 

Something at the base of the tree glimmered, catching his eye. 

“Eh? What?”

Curiosity won out. He crouched, wincing as the arrows twisted along with his torso at the movement. “A wooden amulet…” he said, picking it up in his hands and standing upright. It was no larger than a fifty potch-piece, hand-carved in the wood of a yew tree. “What’s this doing here?”

He ran his thumb across the smooth woodgrain. The surface was adorned with an intricate pattern of latticework. A flickering light gently trickled through the holes. 

“What’s that light? Is this a cover?”

The True Beast Rune didn’t see it worthwhile to dignify his question with any sort of answer. He traced along the latticework until his thumb hit a crevice in the wood. With a tiny _ click_, the amulet’s lid sprang open, and a flurry of lights scattered and danced before his eyes. 

“It’s… fireflies? There are fireflies inside? What kind of joke…” he murmured to himself, staring down at the amulet as if it could answer him. “Whoever it was, they’ll pay for this… How stupid… it’s not even worth taking.” 

The memory of his mother’s face filtered through the haze of pain and rage, momentarily drowning out the roar of the True Beast Rune between his ears. Her jubilant smile as she looked out from the window of the royal caravan across an open field blanketed with innumerable twinkling fireflies— 

Something sick lurched in his stomach, and he buried the memory back within the deepest recesses of his mind where it belonged. “Stupid... this whole world…” 

“What’s that light?! Shoot!”

A furious volley of arrows rained down on him, more intense than the first two rounds earlier. He groaned and fell to his knees. Pain erupted and burned all through his body. He coughed, and the ground beneath him grew damp and red with his blood. 

Branches snapped and brush rustled. The Dunan Army stood in front of him once more. Another follower burst through the crowd, sword in hand and an angry scowl on his face. “I've caught you, Luca Blight! Now you're finished!”

“Finished... you say…” 

_ Finished. You’re finished. _

His shoulders trembled. A slow, unsteady laughter bubbled up in his chest. It reached a feverish pitch, the sound crazed and almost foreign as it reached his ears. “What are you saying, maggot?! What are you squealing about, _ pig_?!” he staggered to his feet and swayed in place. “I’ve got the power to take your life, boy!”

“Lord Luca!” 

Reinforcements burst through the brush and swarmed in front of him. He never made it a point to remember any of his men. Their valor was noble, but ineffective. 

“Lord Luca! Hurry! Escape!”

_ Fools. All of them. They’re just fodder. They’re not going anywhere. _

_ And in your state… neither are you. _

“Arrows away!”

Another round fired off from the Dunan Army’s archers, bringing every single man protecting him to the ground. 

“My holy war… don’t interfere… you _ scum_…”

His vision tunneled in on itself. There were no soldiers, there were no arrows. There was only one man standing opposite him, silently taunting him. With the remaining reserves of his strength, he slowly unsheathed his sword, then sprinted forward. 

“_Riou_… here I come, Riou!”

The young man stood poised with his tonfa at the ready, then rushed to meet him. 

“You _ pig_! _ Die_—!”

Dirt crunched underneath his feet. Blood pounded in his ears. The breath in his chest seized and sputtered. A wild, blunt blow struck his chest with a sickening splinter. Suddenly his back hit the dirt, and the stars in the night sky soared above him. 

He coughed again and struggled to sit up. His hand shook. His fingers slowly released the hilt. He grit his teeth and slowly rose back to his feet, solely powered by whatever dregs of adrenaline he had left to spare. “I don’t have the power to swing my sword anymore…” he groaned.

The leader of the Dunan Army quietly watched him. The head of his tonfa was stained red. 

“Riou… Why do you fight?! Why do you wish to destroy me?!”

“To end this war.”

Of course. Finally the man spoke, but all he had to offer was a child’s answer. After all this time, _ that _ was Riou’s reason? Pathetic. Why did he expect anything more? 

“To end this war? That's a fairy tale... it's a foolish child's dream.”

Riou offered no response, but the look in his eyes…

He hated it. He hated it because it was full of _ pity_. 

He scoffed, then pounded a fist against his chest. The pain that billowed out from the impact didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. 

“Even if you kill me and defeat Highland, you won’t have peace!” he roared and swung his arms out to the sides. “You’ll have a defeated country screaming for our vengeance!”

Riou continued to stare. It felt as though the entire Dunan Army was transfixed on him and holding their breath. But most notable of all was the hollow, thunderous silence. For the first time in recent memory, the voice of the True Beast Rune was silent. His thoughts were solely his own. 

_Of course… of course… _

_ My own blood… I’ve become your meal, haven’t I? _

With legs trembling, he stepped backwards. Somewhere in his subconscious he always knew this might happen. He laughed and felt the blood gurgling in his lungs. 

“Excellent! _ Excellent_! The rumbling in my body! The thirst that scorched my flesh! It is disappearing!”

At last. He was _ free_. 

“Listen, Riou!” he clutched at his chest and felt the arrows burrowed into his body tremble with each shuddering breath, “It took hundreds to kill me, but I killed humans by the _ thousands_—!”

_ I didn’t need the True Beast Rune. I didn’t need anyone. _

“Look at me! I am sublime! I am the true face of evil!” 

He reached up to the sky and slowly closed his fist. 

Were the stars always this bright? 

Or was it fireflies again? 

His vision blurred. His knees buckled. The taste of dirt and blood filled his mouth— 

Luca sat up with a jolt and coughed, the sound raspy as it echoed against the stone walls of Budehuc’s jail cell. His chest heaved, and he was drenched in a cold sweat. As the reality of his surroundings sank in, his ragged breathing slowly eased and settled. 

A nightmare?

No. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory. His last memory before waking up in the frosty fields bordering Iksay Village. 

A stinging pain billowed across the back of his hand from beneath his gauntlet. Luca ripped the glove away as if it were filled with hot coals. The mark of the True Beast Rune stared back at him, branded onto his skin like a fresh, raw burn. Its silhouette reminded him of a howling wolf, not unlike the same wolf adorning the crest of Highland. He cautiously traced a fingertip along the surface of his skin. 

_ Not your finest moment, was it? _

The True Beast Rune whispered in his mind, its voice a low rumble. 

Luca grunted and quickly pulled his gauntlet back on. The mark of a True Rune was far more noticeable than he preferred, and it was better to keep it hidden.

_ Hidden? Isn’t this what you wanted? To wield my power? Now that you are alive once more— _

“What? ‘Once more’?! I did not _ die_,” he growled. “I did not fall in that battle. You are mistaken.”

_ You disappointed me. Don’t let it happen again. _

The burning sensation across the surface of his hand extinguished, as if the True Beast Rune was acknowledging him. Luca sat hunched over in silence. His eyes remained focused on the single torch affixed to the wall beyond the cell bars. Its flame danced and flickered, taunting him from just out of reach. 

_ How long do you plan to uphold this farce? _

His rune rumbled impatiently. Its frustrations weren’t unfounded. The mere notion of _ Luca Blight _ in jail was laughable, yet here he was. 

“Heh. I have my reasons,” Luca chuckled to himself. He marveled at his exceptional restraint and self-control. Allowing himself to remain imprisoned in such a pathetic excuse for a jail cell was an insult to his status, strength, and self-respect. But the _ alternative— _

His skin prickled from underneath his gauntlet. Somehow Luca knew his rune was laughing at him. 

_ If it helps these maggots sleep at night, let them continue thinking they have power over you. _

He clenched his fist, a nonverbal gesture to remind his rune who was in charge. The decision to stay and wait for Yun’s little ‘council’ to properly release him was not an easy choice. The memory of the petulant child-mage teleporting him back against the cold, stone floor again wasn’t something he wanted to experience a second time, but it only served as a small deterrent. Securing a proper release would ensure Yun’s continued favor, and staying in her good graces was the only way to get answers. 

“The ability to see into the future…” Luca smirked, “If I only had power like this at my disposal in the past, my war would’ve been unstoppable.”

It was easy to write off the string of unconnected images that flashed through his mind the day the shaman grabbed his hand outside the Budehuc bath house as cheap, showy magic. But dismissing her prophecy was a mistake, and now Luca was convinced he made the right choice in keeping her close. The jail cell in Yun’s vision was undoubtedly the same one he was sitting in. And one of the unfamiliar faces he saw was none other than the annoying brat yapping at the castle master’s side, and coincidentally Yun’s friend. Even though they never met before, her face was instantly familiar from the vision Yun shared. It seemed as though the shaman’s power was legitimate now that two elements from her prophecy were validated.

He closed his eyes and revisited the visions again in his mind. A glowing lantern light, rolls of soiled gauze bandage, shining fireworks, and most concerning of all—fresh snow stained with blood.

Whose blood was it? A future victim? 

_ No… it’s your blood. _

The voice of his rune was low and cautious, confirming his own unspoken suspicions.

_ How fortunate to earn a warning this time. We’ll do well to avoid meeting another unfortunate end. _

“There _ was _ no ‘unfortunate end,’” he growled irritably at the rune’s reminder. 

Ever since Yun shared her prophecy, what started as a hunch was slowly confirmed as she continued to withhold details. Of course she was reluctant to share more if it meant foretelling his own demise. If uncovering the details surrounding his prophesied death required him to patiently wait in jail, the inconvenience would be well worth it once he learned the truth. And once he got his answers, then he could focus on planning his next move— 

"Are you still sulking in the corner? The cell is not that small! There are plenty of other places to sit!" 

An unwelcome chipper voice broke his train of thought. Luca slammed his closed fist against the wall, crushing a scampering beetle without batting an eye. "What are _ you _doing back here? Are you that eager to die?" 

Cecile stood in front of the cell bars, her voice louder than it had any right being. How quickly she forgot about their last clash. If she thought she was safe with him back in the cell, she had another thing coming. He pulled his fist away from the wall, leaving a greasy smear behind.

"Die? The only one who should worry about dying is you, Luca!"

“Is that meant to be a threat? Don’t make me laugh. You couldn’t even hope to put a scratch on me.”

"What are you talking about?! I’m doing nothing of the sort! If you keep sulking in the corner like that without eating, _ you'll _ die! Just because you are in prison doesn't mean you should starve, and it’s time for lunch!" She raised a small bundle wrapped in cloth, the faint scent of a freshly-made sandwich wafting through the fabric. 

Of course. Another sandwich. Not the most creative little thing, was she? He rolled his eyes.

"Tch. I'm not starving." 

But that sandwich did smell pretty tempting. Not that the pigs in the castle knew anything about making decent food. As the passing days spent at Budehuc turned to months, he found himself missing Highland cuisine more than he wanted to admit. Granted it was still better than war rations...

Cecile unwrapped the cloth and offered him half of the sandwich. "I made sure not to make ham this time, since you were so _ against _ it last time," she cast him a disapproving look and wagged a scolding finger, as if he were a small child caught misbehaving. “You realize we have _ rules _ everyone follows here, don’t you? I’m not about to let Master Thomas get in trouble over a resident missing meals and _ starving to death _ simply because they’re stubborn! Maybe if you had _ behaved _yourself, you might’ve been able to attend our spring festival!”

"Hmph." His hand shot out from the jail cell and snatched the sandwich half. "Can't you get anything right? What is this crap?" 

"It's turkey and chicken together! Since… well, I didn't know which one you'd like, so I figured you may as well just eat both!"

"Ham is better." 

“Well, you had your _ chance _ at a proper ham sandwich! But _ someone _ decided to throw a fit,” Cecile tsked, “Whose fault is that?!”

Luca glared, tearing into the sandwich. The bread was fresh, and there was something leafy with a pleasing crunch in the middle. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he forgot to consider the possibility of poison and cursed himself for allowing his hunger to cloud his judgment. Then again, the guard captain seemed far too inept to know how to properly concoct anything sufficiently lethal in the first place. 

"Did you make this?"

Cecile nodded, taking the other half out of the bundle. 

"That explains why it's so bad." Actually, it wasn't bad at all, and he hoped she wasn't planning on eating the other half. "Tch... why are you doing this? I told you I was going to kill you. You can’t curry favor with a _ sandwich._"

“Miss Yun likes you, and I would be an awful friend if I let you starve here in jail, not to mention the whole mess it’d make for Master Thomas!” she nodded sagely, then paused and wrinkled her nose in thought. “But… if you’re saying you prefer _ curry_, I can manage that! Oh, and extra spicy too!”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“Your next meal, of course!”

He narrowed his eyes. Was this some sort of attempt to lower his defenses, or was she really that stupid? “You think offering me food is going to change things? You pigs are all the same.”

She stared back and tilted her head in confusion. Apparently the thought of convincing him to spare her life through food hadn’t even occurred to her. “What are you talking about? I’m trying to make sure you don’t _ starve_, silly.”

There was an awkward silence as they both exchanged looks, then he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to clean away the crumbs. "Gimme that other piece. If this is the only food your dump of a castle has to offer, you should be ashamed."

"Just you wait until you try my curry! But I refuse to prepare any if you’re causing trouble, so you’d best behave then!" Cecile’s smile was bright, blinding, and _ obnoxious_. 

"Whatever. Now get out of here before I change my mind!"

She turned and skipped up the sublevel steps, his words doing nothing to dampen her encouraged cheer. The sound of her clamoring footsteps tapering off was almost as annoying as her smile. Her stupidity was practically comical. The lingering sourness from his earlier nightmare dissolved, and he couldn’t help but feel almost amused by her idiocy. It wasn't until he was positive she was long out of earshot that he started eating the remaining sandwich. He didn’t hate it, but she didn't need to know that.

“Oh! It looks like you’ve already found something to eat?”

_ Yun. _

The shaman approached his cell with her own small bundle in hand. Unlike Cecile’s noisy gait, Yun’s footsteps were virtually silent. She offered a graceful smile. “I made you a lunch box, but it appears someone already got to you first,” she said. 

“Heh. Aren’t you supposed to see the future? Shouldn’t you have already known?”

Her expression clouded. That wasn’t exactly the reaction he was going for. 

“Tch. You _ knew _ and didn’t tell me? I guess I can let this slide, seeing as how it’s just a sandwich.”

“I _ did _warn you not to continue your fight with Cecile,” the shaman remarked after a moment of silence. 

He polished off the remainder of the sandwich and chuckled. “I’m still waiting for that _ regret _ you said I’d be experiencing by now.”

“Not by now_, _ much _ later_—” she abruptly cut herself off and blushed.

“What.”

Yun twirled a piece of hair between her fingers and looked away. “It’s nothing. I did say there are many different possible paths the spirits share with me. Anything could happen.”

“I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me,” he reached through the bars and grabbed her hand. She was taunting him. She _ knew _ the answers, and her dogged refusal to disclose anything continued to try his patience. He squeezed her hand and took delight in sensing her fingers twitch uncomfortably. “Didn’t you hear me when I told you that I _ own _ you?”

She blushed again. “I already told you, I can’t force visions, Luca…”

“Then tell me what you saw. If you can’t show me, _ tell _ me.”

Her eyes glanced back down at his hand around hers. “Luca, have you ever actually been in a relationship?”

“What does it matter?”

She giggled. “Well, for starters, you can’t just make demands like that.”

“I told you. I don’t make requests. I take what I want.”

“It’s just… all our dates have consisted of going for walks and talking… You should try putting in a little more effort!”

“I’m in _ jail_, idiot.”

Yun giggled again and raised his hand in hers. He found himself loosening his grip without realizing it. Her expression turned shy, and she looked up at him through lowered lashes. “Then...how about another kiss?”

A slow smirk crossed his face. Flaunting feminine wiles was something Luca assumed was beneath the shaman, but clearly he was wrong. What a disappointment. Women were all the same. “Making _ demands _of me now, Yun? How about you tell me what you saw?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“All the more reason why I think I deserve to know,” he released her hand and tilted her chin towards him. The shaman smelled like fresh spring air. She didn’t need to know he had no relationship experience. Just like everything else in his life, whatever he wanted he took by brute force, regardless if it was answers or her attention. 

“I keep pushing fate… but I’m too curious to stop,” she murmured and rose to meet his face through the cell bars. “Can you blame me? I just… I want to see where it takes me.”

“Heh, it’s about time you started acting a little more selfish. I’ll get my answers eventually.” 

Whatever Yun saw, Luca decided the contents of her vision were the key to staying alive and achieving his goals. Lanterns, fireworks, blood-stained snow… it was only a matter of time before he got his answers. The only thing that mattered in the end was obtaining what he wanted.


	27. Thomas: Resignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas makes a distressing announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are based on a post made April 3rd, 2005. 
> 
> We were all surprised at the time, and even looking back now I still feel a bit badly about this chapter.

"W-what are you saying, Master Thomas?"

Sebastian stood in the sunlit foyer, surrounded by a small crowd of Budehuc's long time staff. The butler was well-known for his nervous episodes. Thomas instantly recognized the polka-dotted kerchief patting the portly man's forehead—it was one reserved for especially stressful situations. The last time it made an appearance was during the war.

Sebastian cleared his throat and darted an anxious glance towards Juan at his side. Any hint of Juan's casual slouch was notably absent. The stalk of grass hanging from his mouth jutted upwards at an angle. "This is a joke, right? Seriously?"

"It has to be a joke!" Muto piped up from the back of the group. The kobold's fluffy tail began to wag as if he were already convinced the entire affair was just a misunderstanding. He looked like an eager puppy awaiting a game of fetch. "There's no way! I believe in Thomas!"

"Obviously. Although if you ask me, it's pretty tasteless," Juan said.

Sebastian made another nervous hemming sound as he cleared his throat a second time. His immaculately coiffed curls stuck to the sides of his pudgy, pink cheeks regardless of how many swipes the kerchief made across his face. The other members of the staff exchanged nervous glances.

"No joke," Thomas said. "I… I'm sorry, everyone… please accept this as my resignation."

The silence that blanketed the castle foyer was suffocating. The young man was convinced that somehow everyone could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

_I can't… I'm not fit to do this anymore._

He fiddled with his hands; it was an anxious habit that he had mostly overcome since the war. Residents departed Budehuc all the time. There were many goodbyes after the war. Even the bearers of the True Runes split off and went their own separate ways after coming together to win the battle. Goodbyes were sad, but it was all part of closure once the war ended.

Yet this time felt different. This was the first time Thomas allowed himself to get attached beyond the call of duty, and the possibility of saying goodbye wasn't one he even considered.

An entire week had passed since the spring festival, but with each day it grew harder to stay focused on his tasks at hand. Every time he attempted to keep busy, the memory of Kinnison's rejection crept into his thoughts and made it impossible to concentrate. Daytime distractions began to morph into nighttime insomnia. Thomas laid awake replaying the moment on an endless loop. He was beginning to make mistakes, and even managing the daily accounting in the Budehuc ledger was becoming daunting.

_How can I call myself castle master if I can't even carry out my responsibilities? _

The uncomfortable silence was shattered by frantic clamoring footsteps skidding down the hallway. "M-Master Thomas!" Cecile barreled through the foyer, still half-tying her kneesock up as she struggled to remain upright. "Eike… Eike _said_…"

Thomas wasn't sure how Eike found out the news before his formal announcement, but the librarian was always full of surprises. This time though he wished Eike wasn't as astute. He planned to make his announcement during a time he knew Cecile would be occupied, and at this hour she was typically in the baths before starting her morning patrol.

"Master Thomas!" she pleaded, "Eike said you were _leaving_!"

He couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Cecile, chill." Juan grunted. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she finished adjusting her socks. "This whole thing is obviously a joke."

"B-b-but Juan, Eike _never_ jokes!"

"It's not a joke, Cecile," Thomas said. He lowered his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't smile and pretend that everything is okay."

"But… Master Thomas, we've gone through so much worse before! Remember when your father tried to remove your title and send you away?! Or when the castle was under attack during the war?! We can get through _anything _if we just stick together, right?!"

"I'm going home. I don't know when, or if I'll be back any time soon. I want to visit my mother's grave and just... get away from here."

"Seriously, man?" Juan's grip on Cecile's shoulder tightened. Thomas couldn't help but wonder if he anticipated her fainting. "That's pretty damn weak."

"T-then I'm weak. I accept that."

"No!" Cecile wriggled away from Juan's hold and grabbed Thomas's hands in hers. She hadn't yet put on her gauntlets after her bath, and her hands were still warm. "Master Thomas, I promise, no matter what is bothering you, I know you are so much stronger than this! And… and if you feel like you aren't, _I'll_ be strong for you! I'll fight whatever it is you need fighting!"

He still couldn't look at her. Thomas focused on the sight of her hands grasping his. Were they always so small? He couldn't recall the last time he saw Cecile's bare hands. He felt even more guilty than before and desperately wished she'd put her gauntlets back on, as if they might somehow protect her from the emotional hurt he was inflicting through his words.

"I swear! I promise I'll protect you! So please, just tell me what to do, and I'll do it!"

Thomas swallowed hard. "I have nothing to say concerning castle matters. In my absence I leave the governance of Budehuc to all of you. I trust you can continue on without me as a self-governing body."

"Master Thomas…" Cecile's hands slipped away from his. His palms felt cold and clammy once more.

Eike suddenly stepped out of the shadows, his voice a low, deep monotone. "Sometimes… a little time alone… is simply all one needs… in order to revisit… and reevaluate… the trials and tribulations… of life…"

Thomas wasn't sure how long the librarian had been there listening, but surely long enough. His lean, gaunt figure seemed to almost disappear in the background, yet Thomas could feel Eike's sullen eyes following his every move.

"Eike is right!" Cecile said. "Please… Master Thomas, take as long as you need. Maybe you just need a bit of a break from the stress of managing the castle affairs!" She drew a slow breath, "I take time to visit my father's grave, so… so… I'm sure your mother will be happy to hear from you."

"I'm sorry."

"I-it's okay! We are all going to be fine, I promise!"

Against his better judgment he finally met her eyes. Cecile's hair was completely askew without her helmet, one ribbon missing altogether and the other lopsided. Her armor had a smudge of soap clinging to the seam along her side. His breath hitched in his chest as he saw the look in her eyes. As strong as Cecile's words were, she wasn't able to mask the pain and confusion in her expression. Then again, she had always been a terrible liar.

_Please don't look at me like that._

This was so much easier when he rehearsed it in his mind while lying awake the night before. But he focused so much on what _he_ would say, he hadn't prepared for what everyone _else _might say in response. The anguish on Cecile's face was enough to make him feel nauseous and almost lose his nerve.

Thomas swallowed again. His throat felt dry. "I… I'll be leaving tomorrow. Thank you for understanding. I just wanted to let you all know beforehand so you can make any remaining arrangements."

Cecile swayed in place. Juan put his hand on her shoulder again to steady her.

Thomas's rehearsal never went this far. He wasn't sure what else to say. Nothing could make things feel any better. There were no words he could string together to explain how ashamed he was.

_Father was right. I'm not fit to be castle master. _

Thomas turned and began ascending the staircase.

"W-was… was it my fault, Juan?" Cecile's voice behind him was quiet and soft.

"No, little bean… it wasn't."


	28. Clive: Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clive grows frustrated with recent events and struggles to suppress an itchy trigger finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post and comment thread from April 3rd, 2005. 
> 
> Poor Thomas doesn't deserve all this. His time will come.

“Absolutely not! Sir Clive, I forbid it! I’m the captain of the guard! We don’t handle punishments around here like that!”

Clive leaned against the lottery stand in Budehuc’s courtyard and fidgeted with his gun, the sun gleaming along its barrel. He was on edge and twitchy. What began as a quiet morning polishing Storm somehow dissolved into an unwelcome squabble. After living at Budehuc for nearly a year, he was well-accustomed to Cecile’s bossy outbursts. Sometimes they were cute. Other times they were exasperating. But today she was downright infuriating.

“Look,” Clive said, “this has nothing to do with you or your abilities as a guard. I’m stating what should have been done months ago.”

“Everything is completely under control!”

“So you mean to tell me you’re just going to do nothing and let Luca Blight sit there? Even after he broke out of prison?”

“He’s back in prison now, and I’m not doing nothing! You can’t _ execute _ him, he’s Miss Yun’s friend!”

“Him being Yun's friend doesn't mean anything! Remember, I witnessed this guy during the Duncan Unification War, and I don't want to take any chances, Cecile.”

_ Dammit, why is she so stubborn!? This shouldn’t even be up for debate. _

He slowly ran his palm up along the barrel of Storm, trying not to show his agitation. Indulging in her naïve attempt to offer a sandwich was one thing—Luca was behind bars then, even though Clive still had his reservations. But finding out the Highland prince broke out of his cell changed things. 

“Don’t worry, Sir Clive! I can handle things just fine. You don’t have to worry about taking any chances with me around! He didn’t put a scratch on me!”

“I already said this has nothing to do with—wait,” he choked, “what do you mean, ‘put a scratch’ on you?!”

She swallowed, an embarrassed blush painting her cheeks. “I’m fine!”

“That’s not what I asked,” Clive said.

Suddenly Cecile seemed far more interested in looking at the lottery numbers posted on the board. “How on earth does Martha plan to finance a grand prize like that,” she mused, “do you reckon anyone has ever actually won?”

“Answer the damn question, Cecile.”

Reluctant, she turned to face him. “I already told you, he’s back in jail, so now you should have nothing to worry about!” 

“Did he attack you?”

“I’m _ fine_, Sir Clive!”

He groaned. Luca Blight already deserved a bullet long before his imprisonment, but a few more holes in the Highland prince would be gratifying. Clive’s trigger finger itched. 

“I think he’s just upset! He has no friends, after all! We need to help him _ reform_,” Cecile added.

“Help him reform? Would a bullet in his head help?” Clive said and made no effort to suppress a scowl. “Cecile… is this really what you want?” 

“If Miss Yun cares for him, he can’t truly be _ all _ bad. And it’s my fault we got into an argument. I shouldn’t have goaded him on. It’s my job to make sure he behaves and follows the rules around here!” 

Yun was another source of frustration. What was it about Yun that made people want to believe her? Granted she was amicable and friendly, and Clive didn’t have any personal opinions on her either way. In fact, there was something about the Alma Kinan shaman that felt almost familiar, but that was impossible. Clive never paid the secluded clan a visit during his travels, and to his knowledge Yun never crossed paths with him either. But one thing was for certain—he knew trying to sway Cecile’s opinions was useless if Yun was involved. 

A bell jingled behind them. Clive caught sight of Thomas exiting the appraisal shop. A small satchel was slung over his shoulder, and there were dark bags under his eyes. The news of Luca’s prison-break was probably weighing even heavier on him than anyone else, Clive reasoned. 

_ If I can’t talk sense into her, I bet he can. _

They locked eyes, and a look of pure panic flooded Thomas’s face. His vision darted between Clive and Cecile, then the front gates. Clive gave him a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Your timing is good. What do you think about all this?”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas played with the fraying strap of his satchel. “W-what are we talking about?”

“N-nothing! Everything is absolutely fine!” Cecile said, her voice louder than usual. 

“You’re the castle master,” Clive said. “Tell Cecile to stop this nonsense over Luca Blight.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Cecile’s own expression was almost as panicked as Thomas’s. Clive started to wonder if he made a mistake roping Thomas into the argument. 

“I’m… I’m not castle master anymore. I’m leaving,” Thomas said, his voice low.

Before Clive even had a moment to process Thomas’s announcement, Cecile had resumed flailing. “You see?! We don’t need to bring others into this discussion. Everything is fine, I promise! I have everything under control!”

“Fine? Well, _ fine _ then; castle master or not, it doesn’t excuse Luca Blight from attacking you, Cecile! This isn’t something you can smooth over with a damn sandwich.”

Thomas went pale. “Attack?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I…”

Now Thomas’s satchel and his nervous mannerisms made sense. The young man wasn’t stressing over the news of Luca Blight—hell, he didn’t even know anything about it. He was leaving. And it was most likely due to the scene at the festival with Kinnison. Despite all of Fred Maximillian’s protests, that little bit of eavesdropping paid off. But for Cecile’s sake, Clive wished in this situation his gut instinct was wrong. 

Thomas held back for a moment, then took a tentative step closer. “Cecile, I can't allow you to do this alone. I'm responsible for your safety, so I… I… even if I am no longer castle master...”

“The only one responsible for my safety is me, so you just worry about yourself, okay?! Besides, next time… I can beat him!”

“_Next _ time?!” Clive blanched and Thomas resumed wringing his hands. “Cecile! Don't bother trying to fight the guy! And no, it isn't your job to take care of him!”

“But Ma—ah, _ Thomas _ is about to leave on an important trip! I need to make sure things go smoothly in his absence. And there’s no smoother way towards reformation than making new friends, Sir Clive!” 

Clive wasn’t sure who looked more anguished; Cecile for catching herself and dropping Thomas’s title, or Thomas for being thrust into the spotlight. The former castle master seemed incapable of holding eye contact with anyone, and his skittishness only made Clive more frustrated. 

Before he could say anything further, another familiar face crossed the courtyard after exiting the fortune-teller’s tent. “What’s all this? Did I hear something about making new friends?” Fred Maximillian asked. 

Thomas withered even more. One more set of eyes to observe his failure. For once Clive appreciated Fred’s ignorant optimism. 

“I just got my fortune told, and Sir Piccolo says today is an excellent day for me to do a good deed! What better way than to make friends?”

“No one needs to make friends with Luca Blight,” Clive insisted. 

“Oh.” Fred’s good cheer instantly dried up. “N-no, I daresay no one does.”

“You don’t understand! I have to do this!” Cecile cried. “Master Thomas is no longer castle master, so… so… _ someone _ has to hold things together! Why is everyone arguing with me?!”

Fred’s darted a glance in Clive’s direction. Clive could tell he was already putting the pieces together. “Lady Cecile,” Fred said gently, “can you blame your friends for being a little concerned? As a member of the Maximillian Knights, I cannot simply stand by and watch this without saying anything, and... as your friend, I agree with Sir Clive.”

“No! This is my own fault, and I am responsible for taking care of it. It’s my job! I can’t have anything bad happen while Thomas is gone! And… and if I befriend Luca, I can fix everything!”

As he watched her grow increasingly frantic, Clive’s frustration with Cecile shifted to disdain for Thomas. _ He _ still had a choice in the matter, and he chose to abandon them. It didn’t matter how similar they were—Riou never would’ve run away from the people who needed him, no matter how broken-hearted he was. 

Clive didn’t care how similar the two young men were, and he didn’t care how partial Cecile was towards him. Things had gone on long enough. He tossed back his hood, darting a cold look towards Thomas before addressing Cecile. “Responsible? If anything does go wrong, it'll be because your beloved little Thomas forfeited _ his _responsibility. He picked the perfect time to feel sorry for himself!”

Thomas shrank behind the fence and turned red with shame. The young man drew a shaky breath, then slipped away without another word. 

_ Serves him right. _

But Clive’s barbed words only made things worse. “No!” Cecile sputtered, “You don't mean that, do you? Ma—ah, T-Thomas is entitled to be upset, and he has the biggest responsibility of all! This is my own fault, not his, and if I get hurt then that's what I deserve!”

“Deserve?! If you get hurt again it'll be Thomas’s fault! And… mine, for not stopping this all sooner, dammit. He's no better than Luca!”

“I don't understand! He isn't anything like Luca! He cares about all of us! He just… he just needs some time alone,” Cecile sobbed. 

“Obviously your caring Thomas didn't _care_ that Luca Blight of all people probably wants your head!”

“He… he cares! He's just… He...” She couldn’t keep it together any longer. The messy tears flowed freely. 

Fred stepped forward, frantically looking between the two of them. “Please don’t cry, Lady Cecile! I'm certain Master Thomas cares about you! People always care about their friends, and he certainly considers you his friend!”

“Y-you can’t call him _ Master _ Thomas anymore, Sir Fred!”

“Er… I just meant to say... Sir Clive is simply… trying to have a bit of an intervention. He’s only keeping your own best interests at heart,” Fred glanced at Clive pleadingly. 

It was Clive’s turn to feel guilty. He drew his cloak closer and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse as he walked away. He sensed Fred’s anxious stare on his back but didn’t turn around. This wasn’t the outcome he hoped for. Of course Cecile flew to Thomas’s defense, she was smitten with him. But tears weren’t something he was equipped to handle. Normally Clive was willing to give into Cecile’s demands—it was easier to indulge than he preferred to admit. Even if she was trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, it was becoming clear that Cecile was desperate to gain control of the situation as her world fell apart. 

_ Doesn’t this sound a little too familiar? _

Clive tightened his grip on Storm as the echoes of old anger and regret washed over him. That fateful duel still haunted him. It took only an instant to tear apart his circle of friends and his change life in the Howling Voice Guild forever. The grief afterwards was crushing. He’d have done anything in that moment to try stitching back the life he knew before everything unraveled. And if it meant befriending someone as dangerous as Luca Blight, maybe he would’ve done the same, or at the very least contemplated it in a brief moment of madness. 

The subsequent journey he embarked on was all-consuming as he grasped at false leads and dead ends while chasing across the world to have his revenge and find _ her _…

_ I don’t want that future for Cecile. _

Clive shook his head. It wasn’t like he had anything reassuring to say. Better to let Fred handle things. The entire affair was far too close for comfort. There was only one woman in his own life he ever loved, and she turned traitor. How could he offer any warm words to Cecile when she was most likely feeling the same pain?

He stopped and leaned against the stone wall facing the lake. The sublevel bulkhead door was only a few paces away. Remembering Luca was imprisoned nearby set him on edge again. Clive found himself drumming his fingers along the barrel of Storm as he imagined pulling the trigger and properly sending the Highland prince back to the realm of the dead a second time.

“Planning on hunting some waterfowl, I take it? They’re paying a good commission at the café for any game brought in.”

The hair along the back of Clive’s neck bristled. He knew that voice. He cursed his carelessness and quickly snapped Storm to attention, facing the intruder. “_You_. What do you want?”

“Hey now,” Nash raised his hands defensively. “Is that any way to greet someone?”

Clive sized him up. Faint strands of grey ran through his golden hair. Wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes. The edges of his scarf were more threadbare than Clive recalled. Yet the Harmonian still maintained that same damned buttery charm. He kept his hold on Storm. “You’ve changed.”

“And you haven’t, I see.”

“No. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Two decades of world travel will do that to you,” Nash said. “As for you…”

The latter half of his sentence hung in the air, but it was mutually understood. Nash was twenty years older, whereas Clive was mostly unchanged from when they last crossed paths in Muse during the Dunan Unification War. The gap was pronounced. Clive was grateful to be on the youthful side of fate.

“Of course,” Nash continued, “I’m still looking pretty fine, all things considered. In fact, the other day while I was at the tavern—”

Clive jabbed the muzzle of Storm against Nash’s chest. “What are _ you _doing here.”

“H-hey, watch where you point that thing! It’s been ages. Can’t we let bygones be bygones?”

“Even in this future, I doubt the Elders have forgotten what you did.”

“The Elders? But _ you’re_—” Nash narrowed his eyes and lowered his hands. “No. You’re right. They probably haven’t.”

_ He knows something. _

“Are you in contact with them?”

“Heh, not a chance. No, no contact here,” Nash said. “In fact, since you asked so nicely about what I’m up to, I’ll clue you in. I’m on holiday.”

“Holiday,” Clive said flatly. “Really.”

“Vacation. Or perhaps retirement, depending on who you ask.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Nash shrugged, as if forgetting Storm was still aimed at his heart. “What can I say? You might want to consider trying it yourself sometime. Would do you a world of good.”

“I find it hard to believe you just happened to pick _ this _ place for a vacation.”

“Waterfront views, outstanding starry night skies, and fabulous local cuisine? Not to mention there’s no shortage of beautiful women. What’s so surprising about that?”

Clive grunted and gave Storm another nudge.

“Ah,” Nash chuckled. “You mean this teleportation phenomenon. Funny thing, isn’t it?”

Clive slowly lowered Storm. It was obvious he wasn’t about to get any direct answers out of Nash. He was more useful alive. “Hmph. ‘Funny thing’? _ You _ weren’t teleported here. You came here of your own volition.”

Nash exhaled in relief and patted his chest. “What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.”

Murder was definitely out of the question. But incapacitation? Not so much. Clive tilted Storm down towards Nash’s foot and grunted again.

“L-look, I know as much as you do! If you’re seeking answers, all I have is what I’ve seen firsthand… and heard secondhand.”

His hunch was correct. Even if Nash did know something, he wasn’t about to share. “And what are you hearing secondhand?” Clive asked. 

“Just rumors, idle gossip, you know the sort. As much as I enjoy a well-earned vacation, a dash of mystery on the side is enough to keep me spry.”

“Hmph. Don’t allow yourself to get too comfortable. Not when the likes of Blight are in our midst.”

The carefree sparkle in Nash’s smile dimmed. “Yes. I’m aware of that detail.”

“And what sort of secondhand things are you hearing about that?”

“Too early to tell. But…” Nash’s gaze drifted off to Budehuc’s surrounding forest at the edge of the lake. “I’m content with observing for now, although I can’t blame Kinnison for hightailing it out of here.”

Clive’s interest was piqued. “Are you insinuating he ran away?”

“Ran away? A hunter like him? Not in the least. But when faced with a big target you can’t take down on your own, well… let’s just say it makes more sense to return with more arrows.”

_ So that’s it. I’m not surprised. _

It was only natural that Kinnison had a network of contacts to call upon. Nash’s speculation was probably correct. Clive found himself mentally ticking through his own list of associates he hadn’t yet reached out to, but that would mean admitting he was avoiding the uncomfortable conversation of his own teleportation. 

“Guess we’ll see what happens,” Nash said. He drew in a deep breath, drinking in the clear air. “I forgot how tranquil it was out here. Maybe I’ll take a cue from Juan and catch a nap later.”

“You’re awfully calm given the circumstances.”

Nash chuckled. “It wouldn’t be much of a holiday if I wasn’t. Like I said,” he gave a little nod, then turned and began to saunter away, “You might want to consider trying it yourself sometime.”


	29. Yun: Petition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yun tries to maintain some semblance of order in Thomas's absence, and Juan has opinions that raise questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter aren't based on anything. The original posts never involved a decision-making council. Rather than strictly adhere to those events, I chose to explore a different "what if" scenario. These were still our wild-west days, after all.

"Hold up… what was this for again?"

"I'm looking for signatures," Yun offered a friendly nod and smile. Both gestures were practically reflexive at this point. "Do you have a moment?"

Juan cracked his neck, then leaned against the outer wall of his dojo with folded arms. His aura was prickly, rolling off him in slow, lazy waves. She couldn't sense any ill-will, but his eyebrow still twitched. "Signatures? Sorry, I'm not really following… I was _asleep _only a moment ago, you know. Takes a bit to get up to speed."

Yun cleared her throat and prepared to deliver the same speech that was now committed to memory. "I'm gathering signatures on behalf of an appeal I'll be presenting for the prisoner in the sublevel jail—"

"Wow, we're actually imprisoning someone?"

"Y… you didn't know?"

The bujutsu teacher shrugged. "Do I look like a prison warden? If it's not in the castle newspaper, I'm uninformed. So who's the unlucky sucker who got their dessert privileges suspended?"

"I'm sorry," Yun said. "What are you talking about?"

"If someone's in prison, I figure Cecile probably put them there. And revoking dessert privileges is her go-to for discipline. Trust me on this one."

"Oh dear," she sighed. "Not quite. I can go into the details if you wish."

"Details?" Juan yawned. The stalk of grass dangling from the corner of his mouth bobbed along. "Not really. Sounds like too much work for me to care. So what do you want me to do again?"

_Spirits, grant me patience…_

Her eyes darted back to the list of names running down the sheet clipped to her board. The division cleanly split down the middle. With her own name withheld, they were close to a tie. The entire endeavor thus far was a curious experience. Some people recognized Luca and were horrified by her request, while others were unfamiliar and easily swayed. She was starting to question adding a 'no' column instead of simply collecting only 'yes' names. But it felt like the right thing to do, and she was eager to keep things as fair and just, especially in light of Thomas's departure. If they were to govern themselves, it was only right to provide fair representation of both sides.

Yun offered up her clipboard and a small quill. "I'm looking to make a case in favor of Luca's release," she said. "I believe he's had time to reflect on his misdemeanors and is ready to be reintroduced as a productive member of the castle. We should all strive to get along, don't you agree?"

"Luca…" he frowned. "Why's that name sound familiar?"

_Oh no, how much does he know?_

She drew a slow breath, sensing the rising disdain of the spirits as they whispered to her. Like several castle residents, they too seemed keen to keep Luca in jail. Yun knew they would vote 'no' in a heartbeat.

_I want to see what fate has in store for him. I refuse to believe he's destined to remain in a jail cell indefinitely. There must be a reason why we've both come here, right?_

"Oh shoot," Juan suddenly pounded his fist into his palm. "I remember now. He's that fellow Viki was all torn up over, wasn't he?"

"Was she?"

"Yeah, the dead guy, right?"

"Luca? Y… yes, I suppose so."

"Like _you_," Juan added, catching her eye. Any trace of his earlier drowsy lull was nowhere to be found, and his aura was sharp and clear. She couldn't help but feel guilty under his gaze. "Funny how that works out, huh? People comin' back and all that, yeah?"

She stared back, trying to discern the meaning behind his words. The man was Budehuc's bujutsu instructor, so it was no surprise he was perceptive, even if it didn't exactly suit her needs at the moment. Yun swallowed. This was for a good cause, but why did it feel so _guilty_?

"You know, there are a few people I can think of I'd really rather not see come back here, Yun. It'd be a lot of trouble for Budehuc… if you catch my drift."

His aura darkened. It wasn't meant to be a threat, but the meaning behind his words was clear. A flicker of shame burned hot in her stomach. Was it really for Luca's benefit that she was working so hard to clear his name and grant him approval for release?

Juan yawned, as if his brief moment of clarity never happened. He rumpled a hand through his close-cut hair with another sigh. "Lemme check out that petition of yours. Who's signing?"

"Anyone is free to sign. With Master Thomas leaving… well, I'm trying to maintain some semblance of governance in his absence."

The stalk of grass in Juan's mouth stuck out at an irritable angle as he clenched his jaw. His aura prickled again. It was clearly a sore topic. Yun winced and regretted bringing it up.

"Let's see," he ran a finger down the list, "looks like Fred's a big old bleeding heart and signed _yes_, an angry _NO_ from Clive, a _yes_ from Cecile, but she's never been a good judge of character, and Viki—" he paused, "what's going on here?"

Yun peered over the clipboard. Viki's name was in tidy cursive stradling between the 'yes' and 'no' columns. The dot over her _i_ streamed across the paper in a long, unbroken line. "Ah," Yun said. "She sneezed partway through writing her name, and then..."

"Oh."

"I'm honestly not sure which column she was planning to sign under."

"Well… I guess since she was so torn up about it, that'd make sense. She seems to think it's her fault he's here. But she's just blaming herself for something out of her control. I think this is bigger than just Viki."

"Really?" Yun leaned in, "Then what do you believe it could be?"

Curiosity seized her in an unshakable grip. Yun knew there was no way Viki was responsible for her own resurrection. It was completely impossible. A teleportation sneeze wasn't about to bring someone back from the dead, nor could it restore a soul sent off during the ritual… at least, not to her knowledge. And with Luca's case, Yun knew even less about his circumstances, but it was undeniable by the imprint on his aura that the man died once before. Her mind raced with possibilities as she tried to make sense of any possible connections tying them together.

Juan shrugged. "What do I believe? I got nothing."

"Ah." Her shoulders slumped. "I see."

"I just don't think Viki's doing anything on purpose," he continued, "so if it makes her feel better to let the guy out and 'redeem' himself or whatever you're suggesting…" Juan scrawled across the parchment, then handed the clipboard back to Yun, "consider my signature a 'yes'. 'Sides, Thomas was always about giving people a chance. We're self-governing now, aren't we?"

Yun took the clipboard, eagerly scanning through the list as Juan watched her with a satisfied grin. She paused again at the newest signature. "'Schtolteheim Reinbach the Third'?"

"Heh. You didn't say it had to be _my_ name."

"As in _The Rose Swordsman_? _That_ Schtolteheim Reinbach the Third?"

She couldn't help but smile to herself. Chris Lightfellow's cheeky use of the legendary literary hero's name during her undercover trip to the Alma Kinan village was a fond memory. Yun managed to track down the same book at the Budehuc library during her stay and read the entire story cover-to-cover in her eagerness to learn more about the man who bore the name Chris chose for her codename. She hoped if the captain of the Zexen Knights ever came back to Budehuc, they could discuss the book together.

Juan laid back across a nearby bale of hay and stretched out like a sunbathing cat. "Look. You got your 'yes'. Are you really gonna complain? I've got an important nap to get back to."

"Thank you, Juan—er, _Schtolteheim Reinbach the Third._"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

She bowed, clutching the clipboard to her chest. Juan was right; there was nothing to be gained by questioning his goodwill, and with the collection of signatures nearly full, it was just enough to warrant a proper release.

Yun strolled across the courtyard, the voices of the spirits tugging at her each step of the way. They were eager to grab her attention, to dissuade her from her efforts, to question her motivations and make her second guess her resolve. She stifled them and focused on the sound of her footsteps until she reached the door to her room.

A small bed sat tucked in the corner adorned with a thick quilt in a patchwork of colors. In the other corner was a modest desk, and a pair of dark green wingback chairs stood in front of the window. Her copy of _The Rose Swordsman_ from the Budehuc library sat atop the cushion of the nearest chair, as if wordlessly beckoning a repeat reading. The sight reminded her of Juan's comments again.

_Funny how that works out… like me..._

The memory of the Highland prince's rough grip closing around her fingers and his uncomfortable, dark stare from beneath his heavy brows floated to the surface of her mind. Yun sighed and laid across her bed, closing her eyes. The spirits continued to whisper to her.

"I know," she murmured aloud, "I know you are disappointed in me…"

The spirits' voices grew soft and muffled. Slumber's warm, safe embrace wrapped her in its arms, and the voices fell silent. As the last vestiges of her consciousness surrendered to sleep, one final thought took form, but she already knew the answer.

_This isn't really about Luca, is it?_


	30. Hervey: Score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hervey the Furious, pirate extraordinaire, makes his grand debut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are based on a post and comments from April 3rd, 2005. 
> 
> Dedicated to Julie, for taking a lesser-developed character and giving him a life of his own.

At first he thought it was the liquor, but then he remembered he hadn’t even started drinking yet for the day. After seeing two lizards and a duck walk in front of him, clothed and upright, Hervey decided he was sober, just somewhere really strange.

“Man, that's the last time someone dares me to hit on a girl near a pepper shaker,” he sat cross-legged in front of the nearest body of water and grumbled. “Where the hell is the ocean, dammit?”

He closed his eyes. The last moment he could recall replayed in his mind. The gentle rocking motion of the _ Dauntless _ at sea, the clattering of plates and tankards, the rough wooden surface of the stools scattered across the dining area…

She was cute from behind. Then again, they often were cute from behind. And when she spun around in her seat, she was cute from the front as well. A complete 360 degree win-win.

Dario caught him staring and nudged him in the ribs. “Heh. Appreciating the view, Hervey?”

“Nah. Well… _ yeah_, but… nah.” 

“Don’t _ nah _ me. A pirate can’t be too picky on the high seas, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hervey took one last, long look before resting his cheek against his palm with a shrug. “Maybe _ you _ can’t be too picky, but _ I _ have standards. It helps being conventionally attractive, of course,” he shot his comrade a sidelong glance and snickered. Dario was portly, balding underneath his cap, and he had a voice like a waterlogged Damp Hairball, so pickings for him were understandably on the scant side. Sometimes it was hard to believe he managed to father a kid in spite of it all.

“Right, right. A regular Adonis, you are. We all know.”

“Even if I didn’t have youth on my side, my charm and dashingly good looks are more than enough.”

“Your humility is astounding,” Dario said with a snort before peering over his mug, sizing up the cutie opposite them. She was sprinkling her dish with some seasoning and humming to herself. Her face looked vaguely familiar to Hervey. There were over one hundred people on board, so it was difficult to place every single one, but for some reason _ this _ girl was setting off alarm bells in his head. 

“Nah,” Hervey said again.

A surreptitious smirk spread across Dario’s face. He stroked his goatee, lowering his voice as if preparing to divulge a juicy secret. “Tell you what,” he said, “since you’re so damn charming, I’ve got a deal for you. How’d you like me to pay off all your gambling debts? Rumor has it you blew your recent stipend on Ritapon, of all things.”

“W-who told you that!?”

“Doesn’t matter. Do you want it or not? One-time offer.”

“Hell yeah! Who would say no to that?! But… what’s the catch?”

Dario raised a bushy eyebrow in the direction of the girl. “Make a pass. Show off some of that ‘Hervey the Furious’ charm. Let’s see it in action.”

It sounded easy. _ Too _ easy. But recouping his losses at Ritapon was definitely more difficult. Despite the offer setting off alarm bells, Hervey was quick to make the decision. 

“Lookin’ to see the master at work, eh, Dario? Guess I’ll do you a favor, since you’re offering to do one for me.”

Dario grunted again and slurped from his tankard without giving an answer. 

Hervey slid off his stool in a single, smooth motion, strolling over with radiant confidence. The cutie was still seasoning her food, oblivious to his approach. He rifled through his mental list of pickup lines before settling on the perfect one. A true classic, with a dash of humor. Dario seemed like a man who would appreciate the classics. 

“Looks like you’re trying to ‘spice’ things up. Need a hand?”

They locked eyes. She was definitely familiar, and his alarms were definitely louder than before. She tilted her head and continued shaking pepper across her meal. “Huh?”

“Spice… you know, seasoning?”

_ Damn, that was a smooth line. Don’t tell me it was wasted! _

“Ohhhh. No, I don’t need any help!” she smiled, and the cap to the bottle popped off, dumping a pile of spice across her food. She looked down with a disappointed frown.

“Gah, sorry about that, miss—”

“Oh no, it’s—_ah_—” she froze in place, face scrunched, eyes shut, and now he knew exactly why she looked so familiar.

_ Shit. SHIT. _

There was a loud _ pop_, and then— 

Hervey rubbed his backside with a groan. The grass underneath him was soft and definitely solid land instead of the rolling ocean waves lapping against the hull of the _ Dauntless_. He knew he should’ve listened to his gut instinct, but it was too late for remorse. 

_DAMMIT. That was Viki, wasn’t it?! Dario, that bastard… he knew, didn’t he?!_ _Wait until Lady Kika hears about this..._

A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Umm... Hello? Sir?”

A young woman stood in front of him, her head curiously tilted to the side. The style of her clothes were unfamiliar, but her expression was kind.

And most importantly, she was _ cute_. Cute, and _ not _ Viki.

“My name's Yun, a shaman of Alma Kinan. Welcome to Budehuc Castle,” she giggled. “I was out walking and you suddenly…” she motioned to the grassy lakeshore, “blinked right in front of me. I assume you were teleported?”

He staggered to his feet and rumpled his hair. Hopefully the gesture looked cool and composed because he was still freaking out inside. “Hey. ‘Sup.”

She giggled again. “Where are you from? Or… should I ask _ when_?”

“Just a little place called the Island Nations, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“The Island Nations?” Yun clasped her hands together. “Oh! I’ve heard a few residents are from there! Sir Cray, Sir Travis, Lady Elenor—”

“Travis?! No way. He’s here? Damn him and his little tricks, making me walk through that maze twice…” he grumbled, then quickly regained his chill. “But... at least I know where I am now. Sort of. Thanks, pretty miss. My name's Hervey, and I'm a pirate. Have no fear, I won't steal anything,” he winked, “except maybe your _ heart_, heh.”

Something about Yun’s list of names set off a new round of alarm bells in Hervey’s head. 

_ Wait, did she mention Cray? Like… the same Graham Cray with that crazy tree? I thought we finished him off... _

The shaman smiled. Damn, she was cute. There would be time for asking about former antagonists later. 

“I hope you'll enjoy yourself here if you're going to stay long,” she said. “If you need help with anything, I'll be glad to assist.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you can hit me up sometime, we can grab some dinner and have a long talk all about the Island Nations.” 

“Really? I would love to hear more about them and your time.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you want to know—wait, what do you mean by ‘my time’?”

“Well, based on what I’ve gathered from the others, you’re about… 170 years in the future,” she said.

“The… future?” Suddenly he felt seasick. Standing on land, but surely seasick. Where was the nearest tavern?

She bowed. Was this a speech she gave often? How many time travelers was this chick fielding on a regular basis to be so casual about the topic? “You’ll have to forgive me for all the questions, Sir Hervey,” Yun apologized, “I'm from a clan that doesn't study much worldly history, so I'm quite curious to learn more about the outside world.”

“Worldly? I can do worldly,” he said. Flirting felt way better than thinking about time travel. “Let’s see… Nay-Kobolds have their own village, there are pretty mermaids everywhere, and I can tell you that on a deserted island, couples romance under the starry sky while the mermaids sing,” Hervey sauntered around Yun in a circle, relishing in the childlike wonder shining in her eyes. “I don't really know much about history. I'm a pirate. We don't do that kind of stuff. Elenor should probably know a hell of a lot more.”

“Mermaids exist? What do they look like? You said that they could sing, how beautiful are their songs? What are their opinions on humans?” She stopped herself and blushed. “Oh, I'm sorry. My clan is a secluded village deep within a forest, so I can only imagine what this all must be like. Not like that's a bad thing, since I love listening to the spirits' voices in the trees,” she said, “But I have dreamed of seeing the ocean…”

“Slow down, slow down. Yes, mermaids exist. They can actually walk as well, but they have fins for swimming,” Hervey began to list off his fingers, “They're beautiful. They don't like humans much, since a lot of people kill them for their hides. Like animals, I guess. But they're really something.” 

“Ah! I see. Just like those from Duck Village, or the lizard clan within Great Hollow.”

Judging by Yun's studious nod, it was likely she was telling the truth. At least now he knew it wasn't a drunken hallucination, which meant Yun was the real deal as well. He grinned to himself at the thought.

“Are you personally acquainted with any mermaids? How incredible!”

“Heh, if you keep asking me all these questions, I won’t have any conversation fodder left for dinner.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” she bowed again. “It’s just so fascinating to hear about the outside world!”

“I’m more curious about _ this _ world,” Hervey said. Sure, it was pretty, but it wasn’t the ocean. Although, if all the chicks at this Budehuc were as cute as Yun, it couldn’t be half bad.

“Normally I’d offer to take you on a tour, but unfortunately… well, it’s rather hectic here right now,” she admitted and twisted a loose strand of hair between her fingers. “The former castle master, Thomas, he… well, he’s going through a bit of a trying time right now and has stepped down.”

“A masterless castle, huh?” Normally that would sound like a great invitation for any pirate worth his salt, but the distress on her face kind of put a damper on any hopeful looting.

“Miss Yun!”

A youthful voice carried across the grounds, accompanied by spirited clanking and the sound of barking dogs. 

“Everything has been finalized for Luca’s release! Did you want—oh!” A smaller girl half-clad in armor halted in front of them, her spear held upright as if awaiting an order. A noisy pack of dogs scampered at her feet. “Who is this?”

“Cecile! Your timing is perfect,” Yun said. “This is Sir Hervey, he’s a pirate from the Island Nations.”

“Island Nations?” the girl furrowed her brow. She seemed a bit slower on the uptake than Yun. After a moment’s pause, she gave Hervey a wary stare. “A _ good _ pirate, I certainly hope.”

“I’m certain he is,” Yun said. “I have a few errands to run, but I’ll take care of Luca in a little bit. Why don’t you show Sir Hervey around the castle grounds? He’s a new arrival.”

_ Wait, no. Don’t leave me with the little kid! _

“Heh,” Hervey tugged at his scarf. “If you need help with your errands, I’m your man.”

“That won’t be necessary, Sir Hervey,” Yun smiled. “But I would love to take you up on that offer for dinner and hear more about the Island Nations. I look forward to seeing you later.”

_ Score. Even in the future, I’ve still got it. _

“Welcome to Budehuc Castle, Sir Hervey!” the armored girl saluted, the feather in her helmet comically flopping along. “I’m Cecile, the commander of the guards!”

“H-hey there, little girl,” he half-waved, watching Yun’s retreating form as she walked away. 

“Little?! I am not little! I’m turning 18 this year, and I’m the same age as Miss Yun!”

“What? No way.”

The stink-eye was back. “I thought Miss Yun said you were a _ good _ pirate!”

“I-I am!” Hervey decided in the moment that despite her insistence, she was still totally off-limits, age notwithstanding. “Do I look like a bad pirate to you?”

She scrunched up her nose and scanned him over. “Well… I mean… I’m not really sure what a bad one would look like. Dirtier? Smellier?” 

“Yeah, let’s go with that. I’m clean as a whistle, see?”

The answer seemed to agree with her judging by her emphatic nod. He wasn’t about to push his luck. “I suppose you’re right! Well then, let me give you a tour! Do you like dogs?” she asked.

“Dogs? Yeah, I used to have one, but he didn’t do too well on boats.”

“We have lots of dogs here!” The dogs scampering at her heels wagged their tails as if on cue. “I’ll introduce you to all of them!”

He studied the pack. Each dog wore a different colored scarf and was undeniably adorable. “I wonder if I can find a dog and give him a scarf exactly like mine… Then I'll name him Little Hervey,” he chuckled to himself. Dario used to talk about wanting a dog. He liked the thought of having a leg-up. Sure, it wasn’t payback for getting sneezed away, but Hervey knew he wasn’t exactly in the position to be choosy.

“What a nice idea!”

“So long as he’s not seasick, then I’d be all set. He’s gotta be a real seafaring pup.”

“Seafaring? Like on a boat?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m a _ pirate_. Boats are kind of important.”

Cecile glanced over her shoulder at the brick manor over the hill. “If you're looking for a place to stay, I suppose we could set you up somewhere in one of the rooms on the boat—with Master Thomas leaving, I'm trying to help all the newer arrivals settle down,” she added, her voice wavering. 

“Wait, you have a boat here? A proper boat? But this is a lake.”

“Most of the rear structure of Budehuc is composed of a boat that crashed ashore and couldn't be moved. It's actually really nice, especially up on the deck because you can see everywhere!”

“Heh. Sounds like fun. Sign me up, kid.”

“I told you, I’m _ not _ a kid!”

“Sure, sure. You got it, captain.”

It wasn’t the ocean, but if he was going to be landbound, things could be worse. And after all the excitement, he still got exactly what he wanted in the end—a hopeful date with a cute girl.


	31. Fred: Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred Maximillian assists around the castle, but things don’t go quite as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are inspired by posts and comments all throughout March and April of 2005. 
> 
> It’s really one big love letter to the people I used to have fun writing with. Dedicated to Kacey, Andrea, Julie, Kat, Jon, Akkiko, and many more.

_ Thunk. _

_ Thunk. _

_ Thunk. _

_ Thunk. _

Each strike of the hammer felt like a death knell. Fred stood transfixed, watching an unfamiliar man finish nailing a new notice to the courtyard’s bulletin board. Once it was complete, he tapped his pad of paper against the crook of his elbow and nodded approvingly. 

“I’m sorry… who did you say you are again?” Fred took a step forward. “What’s all this about doling out orders?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Have you read _ any _ of my notices yet?”

Fred clicked his tongue in disapproval. What gave this stranger the right to plaster over Thomas’s last bulletin with his own? There was nothing very official looking about the fellow, save for his hideous pleated ochre pants and coordinated tie. His mousy brown hair was cut just past the ears, straight and flat as if he spent the majority of his adult life not bothering with any sort of styling and instead opted to maintain the same look from childhood. He sported a crisp, grey vest, and the cuffs and collar of his white shirt appeared overly starched to the point that Fred felt uncomfortable just looking at him. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, sir,” Fred said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice, “ever since Master Thomas left, it’s been rather hectic around here. And with all the new arrivals—”

“Yes,” the man snipped, “I’m aware. That’s what these notices are for. And it’s Jess, by the way.”

“Very well, Sir Jess. What is the meaning of all this?”

“It’s a request board. I know you Maximillians follow the beat of your own drum, but this should be right up your alley.”

“Requests?” His interest was piqued, but not as much as his irritation at the slight dig at the Maximillian family line. “We’re self-governing in Master Thomas’s absence. What gives _ you _ the right to dictate and assign requests?”

“Goddess, grant me patience,” Jess grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You attend one damn victory banquet and look where that gets you. Sneezed off to who-knows-when-and-where. What in the runes possessed me to think I could lead a quiet life after the war?”

“Um… Sir Jess?”

“Look,” Jess rapped his pad of paper against the bulletin board, “I have several notes the former castle master left behind. I know he would want everyone to follow his wishes. So even if you don't want to listen to me, listen to what he had to say.”

That was news. Fred craned his head to get a better look at the list of requests Jess nailed to the board. “Why would Master Thomas appoint a complete stranger to carry out his will in his absence?”

“Why indeed…” Jess sighed. “I haven’t been here that long. The boy clearly has his own issues to work out. I have experience in clerical work, and he asked me as he was departing if I could pass these notes along.”

“So he just… asked you?” 

_ Surely he can’t be all that bad if Master Thomas left his paperwork behind with this man... _

“Rather politely, as a matter of fact. And since he was kind enough to allow me to stay without paying for any sort of lodging… and since all of _ you _ seem to be a mess underneath _ his _ messy governance, I may as well.”

“Messy governance?! What sort of mess are you referring to?”

Jess gestured out behind him to the manor, as if all the answers to his disdain were in plain sight. “Look at this place. You call this a castle? What kind of a master allows for this sort of rampant disorganization? I even hear Luca Blight of all people is somehow here. Didn't he die? Goddess, the man's like a cockroach. I _ hate _ bugs.” 

_ I take it back. The nerve of this man, insulting Master Thomas like that! _

“Well then. Let’s see what this board has to offer,” Fred pushed past Jess, using a little more force than necessary. His eyes scanned the bulletin. Listed at the top was a warning notice for an outbreak of rabies amongst the Blade Bunnies on Yaza Plains. Beneath that in bright orange was a tightly packed patrol schedule for the castle grounds, and listed underneath Cecile’s patrol ran a series of requests. Fred raised an eyebrow. “Is Lady Cecile aware of this arrangement?”

A haggard sigh was the only response from Jess.

_ I see. So that’s a ‘yes.’ _

Knowing Cecile, she probably wasn’t pleased with Jess’s involvement either. Fred suspected the young guard overloaded her own patrol schedule as a rebellious way to prevent anyone else from assisting her during Thomas’s absence. 

Jess stood silently, his arms folded as he watched Fred scan the list. Something about his standoffish attitude made Fred annoyed. How could Master Thomas choose someone so callous to pass along his notices?

Fred felt a tickle of defiance. Perhaps Cecile had the right idea. They didn’t need Jess or anyone else to fill Thomas’s shoes while he was gone. They were self-governing. The people of Budehuc could handle themselves until Thomas returned. And when he returned—because of course he _ would _return—he would undoubtedly be proud of them all for upholding the peace in his absence. 

“Very well then! As a Maximillian, it’s my duty to help those in need and eradicate evil in this world! I’ll do them all.”

“Eradicate evil? Heh. It's uncanny how like that old maniac Maximillian you are,” Jess muttered, “I don’t think there’s really any evil on that list, but…” he paused. “Wait. _ All _ of them?”

“All of them.”

“What’s with you people? You know what? Fine,” Jess shook his head. “Whatever you want. I’m just responsible for making sure people get the notices. Don’t complain to me when you burn out.”

Fred saluted. “Yes… _ sir_. It will be done.”

——————

_ Theft _

The pages were dog-eared, and the cover bound in a soft, pliable leather. Fred turned the diary over in his hands, admiring how worn and well-loved it was. “Surely its owner will come back to claim it before long,” he said. “Why bother trying to track them down?”

Mamie stood opposite him, arms folded and spatula in-hand. “Did’ja even read my request?”

“Of course I did! What do you take me for?”

“Considerin’ you dined and dashed on me back in Duck Village, I dunno. You tell _ me _ what I’m supposed to take you for.”

Fred shuffled uncomfortably. “Rico said she forwarded you proper compensation! We were in hot pursuit of evil, I didn’t have the time to count out my potch.”

Mamie raised a dark eyebrow, flicking her wrist so the edge of her spatula caught the light. Fred was grateful she was a noncombatant and imagined that if she ever chose to wield a weapon, he’d need to be more careful in the future. “Whatever. Let’s put the past behind us,” she said. “I need you to help me find whomever left this notebook behind so I can get my hands on the thief who stole the shortcake off my countertop!”

“A theft?”

“You got it. I reckon the shortcake itself is a lost cause, but I still want _ justice_,” she said, clearly enunciating the last word with pointed relish.

Fred’s sense of pride tingled. This was exactly the sort of good deed Master Thomas would be proud of. “Yes, yes, I can understand. A Maximillian Knight would be best-suited for such a task!”

“Actually, Kidd would be better, considerin’ it’s more of a mystery. He’s a detective, so that would be more his thing,” she said. “That’s if he were around. Haven’t seen the little scamp since the war. Kind of a shame, considering he let me pay him in croutons and table scraps.”

Fred felt a passing pang of sympathy for the adolescent detective. He wasn’t sure if Mamie was stingy, or if Kidd was truly so desperate for a good meal that he’d accept food as compensation. “Regardless, you can rest assured. As a member of the Maximillian Knights, I wouldn’t dream of requesting payment from someone in need!”

“Oh? Because I wasn’t planning on paying you anyhow. You owe me,” she tapped her spatula against her shoulder. “Or are you still in _ hot pursuit _ of evil?”

“N-no… you can count on me. I swear on my honor as a Maximillian.”

“Good. Someone’s getting a walloping, and if it isn’t my shortcake thief… you still have that debt to pay.”

——————

_ Delivery _

She sat in a dark corner of Budehuc’s tavern, hunched over the countertop with a tall bottle at her elbow. There was no wine glass in sight. She was probably drinking directly from the bottle itself. Her hair was a striking shade of deep red, streaked with wisps of grey throughout and pulled back with a black velvet tie. Something about her posture screamed ‘don’t approach me,’ but she was the only person seated at the bar, and Fred was on a mission. 

“E-excuse me, miss?”

“Miss?” she rasped and looked over her shoulder. “Heh, I haven’t been a ‘miss’ in ages, boy. Try again.”

Indeed, once Fred got a closer look at her, it was obvious the woman was no longer a maiden. Haggard wrinkles lined her forehead and around her eyes. Hers wasn’t the face of someone who spent years smiling. Something about her sunken cheeks suggested it was more than just the comfort of the bottle that aged her. 

Fred fumbled with the package in his hands before offering a bow. “M-my apologies. I saw there was a notice requesting a delivery. I didn’t recognize the name…”

“You liar,” she snorted. “Show me one person alive who doesn’t recognize the Silverberg name. I dare you.”

Fred swallowed. Of course he recognized the surname. How could he not? The Silverberg family was renowned for their strategic prowess, and he had the honor of working alongside their youngest strategist during the war. It wasn’t exactly a detail one might simply forget. But her given name was entirely unfamiliar. Perhaps she was the family matriarch. “I presume you must be Lady Elenor then?”

“Heh, so I’m a _ lady _ now? Quite the upgrade,” she chuckled. “Yes, I am. You have a package for me, you said?”

“I do,” Fred handed her the parcel. “Truth be told, I was surprised to hear there was another Silverberg in our midst. Your family’s talents are a marvel to behold.”

Elenor grabbed the package, ripping it open without paying mind to Fred’s smalltalk. A deep blue bottle peeked through the paper, the glass dull with age. Her eyes lit up. “I’ll be damned. They really were able to track it down.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kanakan wine. Most of my collection of whites peaked long ago, but _ this_,” she rapped her knuckles against the glass, “this was still kicking around in my stash. I never imagined they would uncover it after all this time. Can you imagine? I have to hand it to Viki, at least there’s a saving grace to her sneezing. Over a hundred years later, and it’s still intact. Now, the real test will be the taste—”

A bedraggled man popped up from the other side of the bar. He leaned over the counter and made a giddy grabbing gesture. “Is that the stuff? It really came?! Damn, I can’t believe your hideout held up!”

“You’re cut off, Hervey,” Elenor said. “You’ve already drunk yourself under the table, and it’s scarcely noon.”

“Aw, _ Elenor_, don’t _ do _ this to me! You’re the first Island Nations buddy I’ve seen since I got here! Well, except _ Jeane_… why’s she always around? You think she got teleported too? Heh… _ Jeane_...” He giggled, a lecherous look slipping across his face. “I’d like to be buddies with _ her_…”

“Are you always this pathetic?”

“W-what!? No! _ You’re _ always my favorite Island Nations lady, Elenor. So let’s drink to it, right?”

“Fat chance. If you think you can butter me up, forget it. This bottle is mine.”

Hervey pressed the side of his face into his palm until his cheek squished against his lips. “Don’t be like that,” he slurred. “A lovely woman such as yourself drinking all alone? Isn’t a fine, hundred-plus year-old bottle best enjoyed in the company of an equally fine, young and handsome pirate?”

“It wouldn’t be the first bottle I’ve enjoyed alone,” she answered darkly. After a moment’s pause Elenor reached out and tugged at the plaid scarf wrapped around Hervey’s neck, chiding him. “Still hitting on everything that moves, I see. Didn’t you learn your lesson with Rene?”

“I did not hit on Rene. I just talked to her! _ Talked_! She said she wanted to go Treasure Hunting with me! She started it!”

“Uh-huh... and you were just _ playing _Ritapon too... nothing more, right?”

“Hey! Now you're just flat out lying! I never even spoke to her! Not outside of gambling, that is.”

“You're right... You’re too slow to ever get past that whirlwind of Ritapon tiles. I must have been thinking of Noah, or maybe Nataly,” Elenor ticked off her fingers with a smirk. “_Gambling_, huh? Sure, sure. Is that the same story you told Lazlo?”

Hervey groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Stop it. I never touched them!” He peered through the gaps in his fingers. “What do you take me for?!”

“In spite of claiming complete innocence over the matter, you're still getting quite flustered. I can't help but wonder…”

“I'm really innocent! I'm just scared of what else you're going to throw at me.”

“Well, since we're already playing this game... you did spend an awful lot of time around the Accessory Atelier... but whatever floats _ your _boat.”

“Do mermaids even _ have_…!?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Well, I think it's 'sort of' important that they actually have those parts.”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“But I do consider it important!”

“And here I was kidding about your attraction to them.”

Fred felt his face grow uncomfortably hot at the implications behind their conversation and loudly cleared his throat. “My delivery is complete, Lady Elenor. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Hervey swiveled an eye over in Fred’s direction. “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there. The name’s Hervey. Are you Elenor’s boy-toy?” he offered a sloppy handshake and continued on without waiting for an answer, “Damn, Elenor, look at you judging me when you’ve got a knight in shining armor waiting on you!”

Elenor rolled her eyes and wrapped her bottle back up in paper. “Mermaids,” she sighed. “Really?”

Hervey groaned again. He released Fred’s hand and slumped back over the countertop. “I told you! How can you even do it with a fish in the first place?!”

“L-Lady Elenor,” Fred swallowed. He wanted nothing more than to bolt out the door and resume working, but it didn’t feel very knightly to leave in the midst of Hervey’s drunken whining. “Is this man giving you trouble?”

“Him? It takes more than the tomfoolery of a drunken pirate to cause me problems. But he won’t be getting any of this,” she said, tying the twine back around her bottle. “_This _ bottle… this one I’ll be drinking alone,” Her expression softened. “It’s the least I can do after making it wait over 100 years for me.”

——————

_ Gardening _

Fred felt his heart give a silly little skip the moment he spotted her crouched by Barts’s garden. Yun’s head was bowed, her hands pressed against the ground as she leaned close enough to almost kiss the dirt. Behind her stood Barts with his farming hoe cocked against his shoulder in mild curiosity. Even in the cool April afternoon breeze, sweat still glistened at his brow, barely covered by his black bandana. 

“See?” the farmer said. “I told you. They’re all saying the same thing.”

“Sir Barts,” Fred announced his presence with a short nod, “and… Lady Yun,” another nod. “I’m here about the notice on the bulletin. Are you seeking gardening assistance?”

“Assistance? Not exactly,” Barts said. “My tomatoes are trying to tell me something, but they’re still so young, I can’t completely understand them.”

“I… er… come again?”

“I just planted my tomatoes for the season, and they’re still seedlings. But they’re pretty unhappy,” Barts sighed. 

Fred glanced back at the soil. Was this some new breed of vegetable? A sentient harvest? A chill ran down his spine at the thought. If fruits and vegetables were to adopt wills of their own, it might unleash a whole new swath of evil on the world, especially if they decided to exact their revenge on their reapers. 

Yun giggled as if she could sense Fred’s foolish fears. “I was just speaking with them, Sir Fred.”

_ Speaking? Perhaps this is simply another talent of the Alma Kinan. _

He was bursting with curiosity. Although Fred’s time in the village during the war was brief, he left with more questions than answers. But before he had a chance to inquire more, she clasped her hands together with a smile. “Ah! I see now.”

“What’s that?” Barts asked. 

“Someone’s been napping all over their patch. That’s why you can’t understand them.”

Fred glanced back and forth between the two. Barts nodded as if the answer were completely sensible, and Yun looked quite pleased with herself. “The poor things,” she added, “that would explain everything.”

“It… it does?” Fred said.

“Are you kidding me?!” Barts pushed past Fred, brandishing his hoe as if ready to lash out at a moment’s notice, “That _ little_… Yun, they didn’t happen to say where Juan’s at right now, did they?”

“No, but I’m sure he can’t be too far off.”

Barts huffed through his nose. “Right then,” he said. “I’ll be back soon! Thank you so much, Yun. Don’t worry, everyone!” he shouted over to the patch as he began sprinting off, “I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again!”

Yun rose from the ground and stood at Fred’s side. They watched Barts as he ran across the castle grounds. Once he was out of earshot, Fred looked over and quietly asked her, “How on earth did you know all that?” 

Yun smiled. “They told me, of course.”

——————

_ Shortcake _

The unclaimed diary sat heavy in his pocket as he approached the café. Fred sighed. His heart was feeling equally heavy. How could he face Mamie knowing he was unable to find the culprit who stole her shortcake? His anxious sigh turned to a shiver upon remembering her earlier threats and her gleaming spatula.

His nose twitched. The rich scent of roasted Le Buque red peppers and ground spices washed over him. His stomach growled. When was the last time he had a proper meal? Suddenly the thought of Mamie’s punishment didn’t seem so bad compared to a warm meal. He picked up his pace. 

_ She never said I had to complete this task immediately. Perhaps she’ll be gracious. Evil isn’t something to be vanquished in a single day, after all! _

Fred crossed the terrace and peered into the café. The sounds of laughter and the clatter of cutlery greeted him. An unfamiliar man sat on the nearest stool, hunched over a plate with another stack of empty dishes at his side. A red bandanna was wrapped around his head, and Fred quickly made note of his bulky biceps. A skilled warrior for certain, but not one he’d ever seen before. 

“Oh! Here he is now!” Mamie’s voice rang out from the back of the kitchen. She came forward with a steaming pot of curry rice, and Fred’s stomach growled again. “Where’ve you been at, Fred?”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

The man spun around on his stool. A broad smile broke across his face, transforming his sharp features with an accompanying laugh. “Perfect!” he shoved out a meaty hand, then realized he was still brandishing a steak knife and sheepishly swapped hands before grabbing Fred in a handshake. “Mamie was just saying you were keeping my diary safe!”

“Diary?”

“Don’t tell me you _ lost _ it,” Mamie groaned, setting the curry rice in front of the man. 

Fred whipped the book out of his pocket, then dropped it on the countertop. “Absolutely not! I gave you my word as a Maximillian Knight to help find your shortcake thief! And if this man is the owner of the diary, that _ also _ means he is the thief as well!”

Mamie tossed the book over at the man. He caught it in a smooth, single-handed motion, not even pausing between bites. “His name is _ Pahn_,” she corrected, “and he’s no thief.”

“Well, I kind of am,” Pahn said. He shoveled another spoonful of curry into his mouth before offering an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Mamie.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Fred gaped between the two of them. Where was all that earlier rage? The thirst for justice? “W-wait… I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Mamie here’s got some of the best cooking I’ve had since… well, it’s _ almost _ as good as Gremio’s stew,” Pahn said. Mamie folded her arms, smiling smugly and basking in his praise. “And when Viki teleported me in the middle of the woods… after going days without eating, I just couldn’t help myself!”

“Ah.” Suddenly everything made sense. “I take it you only just arrived then?”

A wordless nod was the only response, followed by the clattering of the empty bowl stacked atop the plates. 

“If that’s the case… I see you’ve been cleared of all wrongdoing,” Fred said. “And I assure you, the diary was safe in my care. Your private innermost thoughts are protected.”

Neither were listening. Pahn flipped through the pages in his diary before reaching a blank one. He pulled a pencil out from underneath his shoulder pad and began to write. “Shortcake, scrambled eggs, curry rice…”

“Creamed gratin,” Mamie said, pointing to one of the cleared plates.

“Right. Creamed gratin.”

“A… a _ food _ diary?”

Mamie rolled her eyes. Fred turned as red as one of Barts’s tomatoes, feeling embarrassed by the entire affair. “At least we know you respect the privacy of others, since you didn’t take a look at it yourself," she said. "Now if only you were that good about paying your _ bill_…”

Pahn peered over his diary and gave Fred a steely look. It didn’t seem to occur to him or Mamie that Pahn was guilty of essentially the same crime only hours earlier. “You stiffed Mamie?”

“N-no, I mean…” 

“I know, so much for the good old ‘Maximillian values,’ eh, Pahn?”

Fred hastily scrambled to pull out his coin purse, slamming a pile of potch on the countertop. “Of course not! Here. Paid in full, with interest!” Without so much as a backwards glance he hastened across the terrace. He hadn’t the faintest idea how much he paid, but it was enough. A proper meal would have to wait.

——————

_ Dinnertime _

Fred sat slumped over the dining room table at Budehuc’s inn. A meager plate of cheese and pickles stared back up at him. It was pitiful, but it was what he could afford after leaving most of his potch with Mamie in a panic. The courtyard bulletin said nothing about actual _ payment _ for duties accomplished, but even if it had, money should never be a driving factor when performing good deeds. Still…

_ Who am I kidding? I accomplished nothing today. _

Suddenly something whizzed by his head. Fred dodged out of reflex, catching the projectile in his hand. 

“Impressive,” a familiar voice said. The man sitting across from him lowered his hood with a smirk. “You looked as though you were in another world. I thought I could catch you off guard… guess that’s what I get for underestimating a Maximillian.”

“Sir Clive! How refreshing it is to see you.”

Clive nodded. “Go ahead.”

Fred glanced down at his hand. The dangerous projectile was nothing more than a dinner roll. He paused, preparing to decline the offer, but his stomach growled again. “Ah,” Fred laughed, “perceptive as ever, I see.”

Clive shrugged, turning his attention back to his mug. 

“So what brings you here?”

“Dinnertime.”

Fred began to tear into the roll. Soft yet crunchy, the perfect item to pair with the rest of his paltry meal. It didn’t matter if Clive wasn’t the best conversationalist. Just being in the presence of a friend was good enough. “Did you happen to see that new fellow? Jess, I believe his name was. Nailing a bulletin to the board as if _ he _ were the castle master…”

There was no answer to greet him, but Fred didn’t mind. “If Master Thomas were here, he would’ve delegated each task out to the most suitable person,” he continued, then paused. “And I… I was not the most suitable person for any of those tasks. Not even remotely suitable, I hate to admit.”

Clive grunted at the mention of Thomas’s name. “Maybe he should’ve thought about that before running away.”

Suddenly Clive’s standoffish silence—well, _ especially _standoffish silence—made sense. “You still believe he did the wrong thing then.”

“You don’t betray the people who count on you.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say he _betrayed _us—”

“He ran away. That’s as good as a betrayal.”

Fred finished polishing off the remnants of his dinner and cast Clive a startled look. “Betrayal!? Sir Clive, that’s a little extreme.”

“What would _ you _ call it then?” Clive snapped.

“I… I don’t know,” Fred admitted. “A sabbatical? A journey of self-discovery?”

“You know damn well _ Cecile _ wouldn’t call it any of those things.”

“I suppose not. I daresay she blames herself for it.”

“And she shouldn’t. None of this bullshit is her fault.”

“Not in the least. But… I don’t think she sees it that way.”

Clive grunted again, taking a long drink. His knuckles looked white against the mug’s dark glaze as he gripped the handle. No further words were said between the two men for what felt like ages. Fred reflected on the marksman’s words before suddenly reaching a realization. 

“Sir Clive,” he began tentatively, “Lady Cecile _ doesn’t _ see it that way.”

Clive glared over his mug. The answer was wordless, but Fred got the unshakeable feeling that it was as close to a, _ You just said that, you dumbass _ as he was going to get. 

“And… well, _ you _ know that’s not true, and I know it’s not true. We might not be able to go fetch Master Thomas and bring him back, but at the very least I believe she needs to hear from a good friend that she’s not to blame.”

The color slowly came back to Clive’s hands as his grip on the mug loosened. With a low voice he answered, “I tried. She didn’t listen to me.”

“With all due respect, Sir Clive, I don’t think the shouting match in the courtyard was the sort of encouragement that might get through to Lady Cecile.”

“What do you expect me to do then? Just sit back while she runs head-first into disaster?”

Fred chuckled. “An unstoppable force opposing an immovable object? Even a Maximillian Knight knows there are fights we can’t win. You probably won’t get her to change her mind, but... a bit of reassurance couldn’t hurt.”

Clive sat in silence for a moment. His fingers traced along the ridges of the mug before he said, “You asked me what brought me here.”

“Yes. I, er… I seem to recall your answer was ‘dinnertime’.”

“I lied.”

Given the empty plate in front of Clive’s place at the table, Fred suspected that probably wasn’t wholly a lie, but he didn’t push the issue. “What did, then?”

“I still have a mission to complete. I was preparing to leave.”

“Leave… Budehuc?”

“Yes.”

Fresh disappointment weighed on Fred’s shoulders. It wasn’t the first of the day, but certainly the heaviest. “Not for good, I hope?” 

“I need to accomplish this. But…” Clive quietly drained the remainder of his mug, “You don’t betray the people who count on you, right? I can’t leave just yet.”

Fred grinned. “Splendid! I’m delighted to hear about your change of heart.”

For the first time in their friendship, something akin to a smile ghosted the corners of Clive’s lips, but only for the briefest moment. “Not a change of heart,” he said. “Consider it… a persuasive argument made by a suitable person.”


	32. Luca: Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luca is released from the Budehuc jail and grows impatient with Yun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a series of comment threads from April 14th, 2005.
> 
> Yun is walking on thin ice.

“What took you? I thought you said they approved my release.”

Luca stepped into the sunshine as they exited the castle sublevels. Finally fresh air. He wasn’t exactly sure who ‘they’ were, but it didn’t matter who comprised Yun's council. He was free. His brief stint in jail was longer than he would’ve liked, but at least now he wouldn’t have to concern himself with the meddlesome child mage teleporting him against the prison’s stone floor again.

He gave his hilt an absent-minded pat, reassured to have his sword once more. It was the first thing Yun presented him with once she released him from the cell, as if he somehow ‘earned’ the right to receive his weapon. 

“I'm sorry that I haven't had a chance to drop by,” Yun said, “I've been a bit busy and haven't really had that much free time.” 

“Is that so...” 

He frowned as he watched her. She drew a deep breath, bathed in sunlight and stretching her arms upwards like a climbing strand of ivy. Not once did she turn back to look at him. She seemed to be in a good mood, but if it was due to his release it certainly didn’t feel like it.

Yun’s visits had been on a steady decline, and whenever she _ did _ visit, she seemed mentally absent. Even the obnoxious garrison commander was dropping by more frequently than his supposed ‘girlfriend’. Granted Cecile’s company wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She tended to spend more time rambling on about nonsense rather than actually passing along food. With only the voice of the True Beast Rune to speak with, Luca was willing to tolerate nonsense, so long as it meant keeping Yun satisfied. But the shaman’s social calls had fallen to few and far between, and less visits meant less chances to procure more information about her visions.

“Hmph,” Luca squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. “You’re hiding things from me.”

“W-what?” Finally she turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise. 

“Don’t lie to me. What has gotten you so busy? Is someone loading you up with work to do? Because I'll gladly put my sword through his throat.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, with Master Thomas gone—”

“Gone? Who offed the maggot?”

“He’s alive, Luca. He just resigned as castle master.”

“Heh. About time he realized he wasn’t cut out for the job. That means this place is without a leader, I take it.”

Luca’s mood improved at the news. Of course, he’d be even happier to run his sword through Thomas instead, but just knowing that the man who reminded him of Riou was gone was good enough.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” Yun ascended the stone staircase to the courtyard, the spring in her step returned. “I’m certain he’ll be back before we know it.”

“Another vision?”

“No, I don’t need the spirits to show me something I already can feel in my heart.”

How pathetic. He made no effort to restrain a snort. 

“Besides,” Yun continued as though she hadn’t heard him, “I’ve also been busy planning an upcoming picnic… possibly even a fishing trip, depending on who is interested. I’m quite busy!”

He bristled. “A picnic? Why was I not informed?”

“Well...” her eyes darted away, and he suspected it had nothing to do with the small cluster of birds perched atop the lottery board. “Watching Sir Fred working so hard actually gave me the idea. I think a rest is just what he needs. It has been quite busy as of late. We’re all chipping in to help with castle tasks. I think with all the recent work, it just… slipped my mind.”

He cracked his neck and leaned against the lottery shop. The old woman behind the counter gave him a dirty look. The knowledge that he fell so low in Yun’s collection of priorities that he wasn’t even included in the invitation list did not sit well with Luca. Granted he didn’t normally care about stupid things like picnics, but… 

“Fred? And… _ you_?”

“That’s correct. Although there are some new arrivals who may want to join us—”

“Heh… I see,” he grabbed a loose strand of her hair, giving it a light tug before allowing it to slip through his fingers. She winced. “Don't worry, Yun. Poor, busy Fred… I'll find Fred and have a _ nice _ and _ gentle _ talk with him. But don't be surprised if you don't hear from him for a long time.”

_ Isn’t it time for a little bloodshed? _

The True Beast Rune whispered in his ear. Burning hunger bubbled up inside at the thought of a proper clash. His fingers twitched, and a molten hot tremor rushed through his veins. It didn’t have to end in death. Just a little bit of bloodshed. Just enough to remind everyone who he was and how pitiful they were in comparison. And if Fred just _ happened _to die of blood loss afterwards, it was his own fault for being so weak.

“L-Luca! It's not like that!” Yun cried. “Please don't think such things. I thought that it would be fun to have a rest and enjoy the spring weather.”

A different sort of burning sensation ran through his blood as he studied Yun. Hands grasping at the fur trim of her skirt, dark eyes averted and nervous—she was visibly uncomfortable, much to his disgust. There was no way to get the information he wanted if she was going to be cagey. 

The True Beast Rune persistently needled at him. He allowed himself a brief, sweet moment to imagine pressing the edge of his blade against her throat until all the secrets of her prophecy spilled along with her blood— 

Luca released the hilt of his sword the moment he realized his fingers were clenched in place. Perhaps it was reflexive. Maybe out of habit. But it was dangerous. If he wasn’t careful, the rush would overtake him, and he needed her if there was any chance at seeing more of her visions. 

“Tch. ‘Enjoying the spring weather,’ huh…” he said.

Her gaze wouldn’t meet his. “There’s nothing else. I promise. So please… don’t be unkind to Sir Fred,” she said, her lips set in a firm line.

“You're making it out like I'm going to hurt the man. I told you, I’m going to have a _ nice _ and _ gentle _ talk with him. If he gets hurt, that's his own problem.”

“And _ you _make it sound like it's his fault, when it's actually mine. If anything, you should speak to me and not him.”

“Making demands of the prince of Highland again, Yun?” He caught her chin in a coarse hold, then tilted her head up so she couldn’t look away. “I'd like to speak with this _ Fred _anyways. He'll be in good hands, don't you worry.”

Yun averted her eyes. “You're telling me not to worry, though you know I'm going to worry either way. You have a short temper and a horrible violent streak... Why would I not worry about my friend?”

“Are you saying you can't trust me when I say he'll be in good hands?”

“I...” 

Luca leaned down and roughly kissed her, an irritated display of dominance, not affection. She was his woman. His word was final. “You forget,” he growled, “I _ own _ you.”

She reluctantly looked back into his eyes. 

_ She doubts you. _

“We all make mistakes. Except me. But don't let it get you down, Yun. I’m in a good mood today. I’ll forgive you for this transgression.” 

“Everyone makes mistakes, Luca. No one is perfect. Not even you,” Yun bit her lip. “But please, don't take this situation the wrong way. If you hurt him…” she trailed off and broke eye contact once more.

“Tch,” Luca released her chin. This wasn’t entertaining anymore. “I promise you, I won't lay a finger on him,” he said.

She offered no response. Her eyes lingered on his hand by his side, almost as though she could sense the mounting hunger radiating off the True Beast Rune from beneath his gauntlet. He quickly turned away and allowed his cape to cut the space between them with a sharp flourish. “I don’t think you realize the position you’re in, Yun. I don’t appreciate wasting my time. ”

“I’m well aware,” she said quietly. “The one who doesn’t understand is you, Luca.”

He gazed across the courtyard, taking in the bustling scene as people went about their business. They had no idea how quickly everything could turn to flames and death if he desired it. Just knowing they were powerless against him sent a shiver of anticipation up his spine, but the high was short-lived. There would be no bloodshed like that if Yun’s visions were to be believed. 

“This better be worth it. Because if not, I will make it worth my time by blade and blood, regardless of what you saw.”


	33. Cecile: Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clive offers words of reassurance to Cecile as she struggles with Thomas's resignation, and Koroku gets belly rubs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from April 5th, 2005.
> 
> Oh, it's so hard writing for a sad Cecile.
> 
> _On a small hiatus while I get other aspects of my life in order._

_ He’s gone. _

She bowed her head, allowing the visor of her helmet to slide over her eyes with a clunk. It didn’t matter. No one was around to see, save for Koroku. She indulged in the small, private shadow across her face from beneath the iron before pushing it back up with a slow breath.

How did things come to this? What could she have done to make it better? _ Could _ she have done anything to make it better? 

Cecile sat at the front steps of the manor, Koroku in her lap once more. She idly ran her hand along the dog’s back and stared out at Yaza Plains in the late afternoon sun. The gentle swaying motions of the grass in the wind normally came as a welcome respite—after all, a home at peace was the most any guard could ask for. 

“Koroku… Have you ever lied to someone just to make them feel better?”

“Aroo…”

“I said we’ll be okay. But...” Tears stung her eyes. How many times had she cried in secret since Thomas’s departure? It was a marvel Koroku had the patience to listen. She leaned forward, pressing her nose against his fur. “I lied,” she whispered. “I’m not okay.”

Koroku yawned. _ He _seemed okay, but perhaps he was lying too in attempts to encourage her.

“You’re right, I should focus on helping Miss Yun with the picnic plans, not Master Thomas’s absence... Maybe… if we throw a wonderful picnic, he’ll come back soon.”

_ And maybe...if he’s no longer the castle master, I can tell him… _

Her heart hurt. 

Cecile shook her head. How vulgar and inappropriate. Setting aside her position as garrison commander, it still felt wholly selfish as a friend to push feelings onto someone who was clearly grieving. She could never make any kind of confession now. She would simply take her dark secret to the grave. 

She leaned against the wall, her armor making a small clunking sound as her helmet tapped the stone. Another sigh escaped her lips. At least Yun seemed to be in good spirits. Was it the spring festival’s success? Or maybe the newest resident, the cheeky young pirate named Hervey? The two of them seemed to hit it off well, and it cheered Cecile to see her friend getting along with all the new arrivals. Watching Yun ease back into daily life after all the chaos surrounding Luca’s prison-break escapades felt comforting. At least _ something _ was going right.

“Speaking of Luca, I wonder where he's gone to, now that I think about it,” Cecile mused. 

Koroku wagged his tail. Of course, he probably already knew the answer! That wasn’t fair, Koroku knew all the happenings around the castle. She grabbed his paws as if the gesture would elicit some sort of confession. “What is he eating, I wonder? Do you think he’s eating? Do you think he’s okay? Maybe he’s out there right now, and all he has to eat are squirrels,” she gasped. “You see, Koroku? This is exactly why he needs a friend to keep him in line!” 

Koroku yawned again. Clearly squirrels for supper was a deep injustice to him as well.

Whatever the man was up to, nothing changed the fact that she would have to be even more diligent than before now that he was released from jail. The real change was Thomas’s absence and the hollow space left behind in her heart, a space she didn’t even know existed until it was empty. 

She scrunched the fur between Koroku’s ears and listened to gentle breeze skirting across the plains. It was a warm, early spring day just like this when Thomas first arrived as their new master. Reflecting on it resurrected a twinge of dormant embarrassment. It wasn’t one of her proudest memories. Jumping to conclusions and accusing him of being a suspicious character when he’d barely crossed the stone steps… How was she to know their newest castle master was barely older than her? Yet now she would give anything to repeat that same humiliating mistake if it meant seeing him again. 

“Hey.”

Cecile jumped with a start and looked behind her. Clive stood by the gates, his cloak pushed back and his gun resting against his shoulder. “Sir Clive! I’m sorry, am I in your way?”

“Not really.” 

There was a moment of silence, then he sat next to her on the steps uninvited, setting Storm against the wall. Koroku rolled off her lap and onto his, wagging his tail as Clive rubbed his belly. 

“I… I promise I was not slacking at my post.”

“I know.”

She swallowed and looked back across Yaza Plains. Clive’s presence comforted her. Even his side profile reminded her of her father. She knew without a doubt he’d have sat and listened to her in the exact same fashion. She drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes, enveloping herself in nostalgia. If her father were still alive, if _ he _ still carried the responsibility of garrison commander instead… 

Cecile’s status as captain of the guard was her pride and joy. A title she eagerly inherited after his passing, she coveted it more than anything else. Even the thought of sharing some of her prized patrol routes still managed to sometimes alight a childish spark of jealousy in her. But for the first time in her life, a tiny part of her wished she were simply another resident. 

It wasn’t the first time she permitted herself to entertain the scandalous fantasy since Thomas’s resignation. Never would she give up her title for anything. Yet in the darkest moments of night patrol with no one around to see her tears, Cecile allowed herself to imagine abandoning her post, casting off her duties, and sprinting across the plains, tracking Thomas down and bringing him back home. And perhaps then she might finally find the right words to explain how she felt in a way that would convince him to never leave again. 

But it could never happen. Budehuc was her home. It was her responsibility. Everyone was counting on her to keep them safe. And if her father ever knew she was thinking such things— 

“Don’t hold back on my account.”

“W-what?” She flinched, glancing at Clive still sitting at her side. 

“This is the least I’ve ever seen you talk. If you’re holding it in because you don’t want to inconvenience me…” he looked away, “don’t bother. I’m not inconvenienced.”

Another swell of tears stung at her eyes. With all the new arrivals, shedding tears would make for a terribly inappropriate first impression. Without a castle master, getting everyone settled in their new accommodations fell to her and the rest of the established residents. It felt easier to simply bury her own feelings and focus on what needed to get done. 

“That’s… that’s not...”

Clive reached out and gently drew her head against his shoulder. He smelled of leather and gunpowder. The feather in her helmet brushed across his face, but he made no effort to move it aside. “I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because I’m sure it doesn’t feel okay,” he said quietly. “I’m… sorry for shouting at you before.”

She sobbed. “N… No, _ I’m _sorry, Sir Clive—”

“No apologies needed.”

“I… I keep thinking… what if it’s _ my _ fault?” she asked as a weak hiccup slipped out. “What if I just needed to patrol more? What if I could’ve done something or said something? W-what if I had been able to better protect him from Luca? What if I was… what if I was someone else?”

“_Thomas_…” Clive grunted. He looked as though he wanted to say something unflattering and changed his mind. “Thomas made a mistake. He’s probably asking himself the same questions.”

“Do you think so?”

He moved his hand to her shoulder with a nod. “You can’t go changing who you are just to make someone happy. You have to want to change on your own for yourself. So don’t ask those questions.”

“Even if it was my fault?”

“It wasn’t. But I need you to promise me you won’t be so reckless.” 

Cecile wiped the tears from her eyes, a stubborn note creeping into her voice. “I have a duty as captain of the guard.”

“You can’t protect others if you don’t protect yourself first.”

“I won’t _ need _ to worry once I’ve made friends,” she insisted.

“Promise me.”

Cecile hesitated. Agreeing to his promise felt significant, and she sensed the weight behind his words. “I promise to be careful. But I won’t promise to stop doing what feels right,” she said.

The answer seemed to satisfy him. Clive made a faint noise of approval and continued to indulge Koroku in a belly rub as the dog snuggled into his lap. A comfortable silence settled between them, save for the sounds of the early spring birds in the surrounding trees. “Do you feel better now?” he finally asked.

“Almost. I just…” Her hands trembled, grasping at the fabric of her skirt in hopes of staying grounded. “I just wish I told him… how I feel… but I don’t think I ever will now.”

Clive’s shoulder tensed at her words. His free hand rubbing Koroku’s belly slowed to a stop. “Tell me something,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion, “Do you feel like he betrayed you?”

The question gave her a start. Immediately she felt the urge to deny it, to jolt upright and clatter her armor in an indignant display at such a thought. But Cecile closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his shoulder against her cheek, slowly rising and falling with each breath as he waited for her response. And another truth softly formed in her throat, one she hadn’t yet admitted aloud to anyone, not even Koroku. “A little,” she confessed into the folds of his cloak. “I do. Just a tiny bit.”

“Then… what would you do about it?” 

“What do you mean?”

“He betrayed you. Now what?”

She studied his face. He gazed straight ahead, but his eyes were unfocused, as if looking past the grasses of Yaza Plains to somewhere Cecile couldn’t reach. “What… what do I do now?”

“Yes.”

The answer came easily. There was no hesitation in her heart. “I forgive him,” she said. 

“What about your feelings?”

She tried to see into that distant place Clive was desperately surveying, but there were no further answers to be had in the space between them and the horizon. “Even still… I… I _ can’t _ tell him,” she whispered. “Not now. Not ever. And I almost wish I did.”

He drew her shoulder closer, and his voice softened. “We all have things we regret not saying.”


End file.
